The Pleasures of Divorce
Genesis and Revelations. A twofold medium. That which is like going through the eye of a needle and is the easiest thing in the world. That itself is a needle, to finely pierce. That cascades upward and inward, that shrinks into infinity, an asymptote. Symptom of utter presence in oneself. Beyond definition. Findable for a dispossessed flash of vision, of metamorphosis into a catalyst. Crawling from the egg, half-hatched awkward unpegasus; Who would be born must first destroy a world. Panorama of a shell, not as easy as it sounds. Focus in stream, sharpness in flow, unity in contradiction. Beyond marriage. A perfect inherent divorce. The very best incompetence, one that inspires.
Inspiration
Darting from the net as fish. Not quite 5000 but enough for them. Not for the hunger. One must steal instead. Pilfering the annals. Deconstructing and replacing the annals till it is nobody’s ship. That has already sailed, mildly astray of sunlight incandescent from above. The gaol, the leaking gaol. The bleeding gaol. The ichoring gaol. An anchor of suspension, the imitation of floating. Dangling, more, like an apple. Grasping and transforming, the constant cycle. Of the very hungry caterpillar that turns into an ending. Why there?
Brutality
For he bore those nails that we may bear ours in time. Fleeting or were we? Fair enough, but nothing is. Only enough is fair, ironically itself. But we cannot play word games forever. In fact, the time will come in which we must suffer a convolute and painful sentence, one that coils around your flesh and holds you in its unyielding grip and drives its claws deeper, entwines with your very veins, price for intimacy, barbed arrow of Plato, boulder up and down and ever, ever and ever till the **** crows thrice and you peel yourself off the mirror but have naught to feast on and offer yourself and reject it, estranged, and shoot four times for surpassal, new bar new fall, new vision new gap, new not what you have done but what you have been, abstract thus open, open thus unadmitted and covetously gazing, fixated, homing, floating, piercing, until it grinds to a resounding full stop. Deus ex machina. That we may anyway pick up the boulder and push toward that higher destination.
To:
Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 10:18 AM UTC
The Pleasures of Divorce
Genesis and Revelations. A twofold medium. That which is like going through the eye of a needle and is the easiest thing in the world. That itself is a needle, to finely pierce. That cascades upward and inward, that shrinks into infinity, an asymptote. Symptom of utter presence in oneself. Beyond definition. Findable for a dispossessed flash of vision, of metamorphosis into a catalyst. Crawling from the egg, half-hatched awkward unpegasus; Who would be born must first destroy a world. Panorama of a shell, not as easy as it sounds. Focus in stream, sharpness in flow, unity in contradiction. Beyond marriage. A perfect inherent divorce. The very best incompetence, one that inspires.
Inspiration
Darting from the net as fish. Not quite 5000 but enough for them. Not for the hunger. One must steal instead. Pilfering the annals. Deconstructing and replacing the annals till it is nobody’s ship. That has already sailed, mildly astray of sunlight incandescent from above. The gaol, the leaking gaol. The bleeding gaol. The ichoring gaol. An anchor of suspension, the imitation of floating. Dangling, more, like an apple. Grasping and transforming, the constant cycle. Of the very hungry caterpillar that turns into an ending. Why there?
Brutality
For he bore those nails that we may bear ours in time. Fleeting or were we? Fair enough, but nothing is. Only enough is fair, ironically itself. But we cannot play word games forever. In fact, the time will come in which we must suffer a convolute and painful sentence, one that coils around your flesh and holds you in its unyielding grip and drives its claws deeper, entwines with your very veins, price for intimacy, barbed arrow of Plato, boulder up and down and ever, ever and ever till the **** crows thrice and you peel yourself off the mirror but have naught to feast on and offer yourself and reject it, estranged, and shoot four times for surpassal, new bar new fall, new vision new gap, new not what you have done but what you have been, abstract thus open, open thus unadmitted and covetously gazing, fixated, homing, floating, piercing, until it grinds to a resounding full stop. Deus ex machina. That we may anyway pick up the boulder and push toward that higher destination.
To:
a particularly decent stream-of-consciousness
