White face, wide eyes
clenched hands.

Earth churned and sliding.

A fog on the hill,
dissolving hands.

It rattles when I am still.

Like in rooms of strangers.

Ruptured scars of
mud sunken hills,
black water

runs like a death plague
through houses.

And soil washes
into cracks and thickens.

Hell's cavities splitting.

Aftershocks,
subtle dreaming,
passing in my sleep.

Blinking red plasma
kaleidoscopic frame rate

"RED means insane"

"put a silver in! put two!"

The flashing
King of States
holding a minigun

"is that metal?"

"looks like bullets"

"tilt the wrist, tilt the wrist"

a glass of spiced ice
knocked over
sticky floors

"who cares!"

"where was the proximity?"

"what?"

"of rendevoux"

the liminality of spinning



"shoot him!"

[[More real than the real, that is how the real is abolished]] de facto slogan to the virtual economy \ Reality has collapsed through its own fiction || rummaging through boxes // a DVD from the 2001’s states [[the future of gaming is here]] opening with ten minutes of nauseating zooms on women’s ***** \ The future doesn’t look much different from the past || hyper-masculine neo-enlightenment ***** scrawling ******* entries into digitised soliloquies \ VR technology once used to aid traumatised amputees now a billion dollar industry of ****** throwing simulators for bored middle-class kids \ Parents watch awkwardly from the corner of the room too disconnected from reality to connect with irreality \ Two and the same \ Silicon synapses pass through trade routes of jutting ribs and serotonin receptors \ White America a botnet of alt-right neoliberal fundamentalist-atheists gutting the majority world so everyone can watch Doctor Strange // Marvel’s latest explosive **** from the libidinal imagination of a middle-aged idiot \ Thanatos and Eros arrive at the same destination to dismantle subliminal desire one commodity at a time \ The sublime never experienced // only destroyed // consumed in the inverted maw of late-stage capitalism where each irruptions of desire is more banal than the previous \ Banality the ultimate distraction from apathy // a pseudo-cyclical time dilation of ever accelerating proportions \ Soon nothing will be experienced at all and Rotten Tomatoes will give it a 99% score \ When the singularity hits everyone will be too brain dead to care that they’re god \ 24-7 VR **** // Disney reincarnated as a being of pure light // recursive integration of every bland radio hit about a sexist ***** at a club // irreality shocked into neurons bypassing sensual phenomena // an all encompassing warmth // veil of death // eyecaps dragging flesh closed // backup released // no escape // digitised irreality // holographic Disney dancing on the train home // notice of termination swiped away as junk mail // all beings arrive // transcend circuitry // fly through the cosmos watching every episode of Friends at once \ Didn’t you know? [[The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of banalisation \ ]]

ears pop, boys laugh
you look nice in pink
look nice in my head, in the sky, in
the pool
im a ****** and you know,
you know and we talk about
***. we talk about making
war
which is funny because i still can't walk

look at me,
all day
never blink, thinking about
me
how nice do i look in pink? in your head, in the
pool. in the sky.
im just a kid and you know
you pick me up by my neck and pin me against the wall and i laugh because you don't know that i still do not know how to walk

this reminds me of something,,,

Dark Matter

White Matter

the untamed fire eating at the vacuum

and i'm waving at you through glass windows

being checked for explosives.

Mother and Father

you split when I was two

am i what you left and what you were, what you are?

does the corpus collosum

contain the answer to your waving?

left to right

the linear motion of your hand

wraps around into a circle,

blends into unfamiliaritiy

like a simple word you look at for too long

and i am unsure whether to wave back

or to stand infinitely

Two tones. Breaking. White light from the bone.
I died a long time ago. Split. Masks moulded from real faces.
Nobody thought to cut breathing holes. Some disfigured in the process, choked and spat out their own mouths.
Wish I’d done the same.