Preface to a tract

 I know that you are bored of the idea of information, and you know that nobody will ever date you if you're into reading, but dating isn't really everything, And in a lot of countries, people don't date? And besides, dating gets to be seen as stupid as you grow up. Also I know that you are in pain, and I am sorry to be writing this, and I am sorry to have you read this, and I am sorry that I ever wanted you to read this! Please throw this away rather than read it! You are in pain! I cannot do anything about that! Please 🙏 just throw this away, and forget that I exist, but God is not a Karen! He is not triggered! He is beyond emotions! He is not a terrorist! Terrorists control others! They rule by fear! They are ruled by their emotions! God is not a mere human! Wait! I am sorry that I mentioned God or anything about anything, and once again, I am sorry that you're reading this! We are not terrorists! Yes, you can believe in truth and not be a terrorist! That's actually possible! No, I am not God! I do not define truth! I do not define reality! I am as much a sinner as you! I am not a Nazi! Please🙏 don't hate us! We don't seek to control your mind!

Dada poem6

 Days of him are 5 years old.

Good luck with your blue eyes that look like Hitler!

You can not touching garbage!

You can get a sea horse!

It keeps going and going to be boring.

I know something about this guy.

👅Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 35, The Poem

 💓Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 35, The Poem

Because you took advantage of a sinner
because you took advantage 
because you took 
because you took advantage of my disadvantage
when I stood Adam-naked
before a federal law and all its stinging stars

Because you took advantage of a sin
when I was helpless moultng moist and tender
hoping for the best
dreaming of marriage in a mountain state
aye of a litter of Lolitas

Because you took advantage of my inner
essential innocence
because you cheated me--

Because you cheated me of my redemption
because you took
her at the age when lads
play with erector sets
a little downy girl still wearing poppies
still eating popcorn in the colored gloam
where tawny Indians took paid croppers
because you stole her
from her wax-browed and dignified protector
spitting into his heavy-lidded eye
ripping his flavid toga and at dawn
leaving the hog to roll upon his new discomfort
the awfulness of love and violets
remorse despair while you
took a dull doll to pieces
and threw its head away
because of all you did
because of all I did not
you have to die

💓Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 25

  Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 25

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet.
Age: five thousand three hundred days.
Profession: none, or "starlet"

Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze?
Why are you hiding, darling?
(I Talk in a daze, I walk in a maze
I cannot get out, said the starling).

Where are you riding, Dolores Haze?
What make is the magic carpet?
Is a Cream Cougar the present craze?
And where are you parked, my car pet?

Who is your hero, Dolores Haze?
Still one of those blue-capped star-men?
Oh the balmy days and the palmy bays,
And the cars, and the bars, my Carmen!

Oh Dolores, that juke-box hurts!
Are you still dancin', darlin'?
(Both in worn levis, both in torn T-shirts,
And I, in my corner, snarlin').

Happy, happy is gnarled McFate
Touring the States with a child wife,
Plowing his Molly in every State
Among the protected wild life.

My Dolly, my folly! Her eyes were vair,
And never closed when I kissed her.
Know an old perfume called Soliel Vert?
Are you from Paris, mister?

L'autre soir un air froid d'opera m'alita;
Son fele -- bien fol est qui s'y fie!
Il neige, le decor s'ecroule, Lolita!
Lolita, qu'ai-je fait de ta vie?

Dying, dying, Lolita Haze,
Of hate and remorse, I'm dying.
And again my hairy fist I raise,
And again I hear you crying.

Officer, officer, there they go--
In the rain, where that lighted store is!
And her socks are white, and I love her so,
And her name is Haze, Dolores.

Officer, officer, there they are--
Dolores Haze and her lover!
Whip out your gun and follow that car.
Now tumble out and take cover.

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Her dream-gray gaze never flinches.
Ninety pounds is all she weighs
With a height of sixty inches.

My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust

What modern tracts must sound like

 I am sorry that you're reading this! I am sorry that I am telling you what I believe! I am sorry that it is you who are reading it! I don't want to control you! I don't want to control your feelings! You are you! I am me! Why should we have to interact? I am sorry for having beliefs! I am sorry for telling you what I believe! Please 🙏 don't hate me! Please throw this in the trash! Forget me forever! Okay?

nabokov