Sep 2017
No no nee nah naw. All I can offer you is this. Taking a fist, making a new sphincter higher up the body, fistula in hand. People drown in stomach acid. Tell you what’s beautiful – stomach linings reduced to squares that bud next to each other, cross-sectioned like in textbooks with permeable edges and bubbles bursting inside to secrete. Internally imagined bubbles perambulate between other bubbles, and that is a reality never truly observed in our own dimensions, but it is known to exist. It is known. These are realms where opinion and conviction do not contribute in the truest sense. Divorced. Shut eyes.
~
If you could record thoughts what would you make of all the blank spaces? There is more data than we can imagine. More data more data. Anything you like. More data thrown up in order to process more data. Leave them in folders. Folders of *****. If legs could work they would run. Might. Go missing. Never suicide but maybe go missing. There were tangible things blotted away by fear and hurt. Not hopeful. Borne of this could be something worth looking back on. Time to think. Rollerblade between bubbles now, grass blowing into balloon animals stretches the hair on the head until so thin nobody will want to **** that head anymore. Ears red-zoom in on canals thick with inflammation and damaged chicken-haired cells that aren’t coming back. This will not get better. All that are left are diagrams, cut loose from the original context and lying disused. Pull things together, don’t misuse. Watch papers fall to the floor. Walk away.
~
Using bad language like ‘can’t’ for refuge. Don’t force function; it’s needed, O tearing self from self. Hating your twin. My twin ate me and became unlovableunfuckable. Create creatures instead. Push form into something more organic than organic – how was it remembered. False figures false organs pouring out pigs-tongue, locked in the supply closet. Never go to the teacher’s lounge, it is a terrible place full of function and sweat. Not adult like all other teachers. Let students see weakness, it’s portentous of the future. Never will be rich in the religious sense. Chose it. Bathing in it. Nobody else should get in the tub. Want to run. World’s mercy lasted yet, waiting for it not to last but will only know when more risks are taken. Walk away with phone dead in pocket, no chance of recharge and cause panic – mild distaste turns to hatred, problem solved. Be careful to play a long internal game. Feel epigenetic throbbing.
~
Words are gone, and instead shapes bubble from tangible physical observations, stretching up into things that are different enough to find comfort in. Can’t give it out, can’t be asked questions because none of the answers are explainable. Should swear silence and communicate with images. Words were once all and image nothing prior to rejection and age: mental auto-immunity. Not much left before body selling means nothing, wince when it comes up in conversation, nobody needs to know but compulsion’s to tell everyone. Maybe this is the way to make a difference; show humanoid vulnerability, reminding the world that people exist in all corners and really, we’re ok right? Lets co-exist together and in return you can ******* once more in peace. Never a dull moment.
~
Locked in, looking across there is no window that you can’t see yourself in. Looking back. Uniform heights and weights and squares upon squares, regardless of scale. If I see another square I will *****. Tiled floors here are the same as in the museum; you hated them, so I had a shot. Get some ideas down. Images shifted from one medium to another will yield something. Cannot escape the thought that making non-political art is self-indulgent and irresponsible, while political art is best left to someone else. God only unnerves. Almighty someone else can stand. It is still irresponsible to be small? Take-me-out-of-it is not possible with a clear conscience. Gotta break some heart-eggs.
~
Want help with math – sit on down. Work hard, give everything away, don’t have to think about anything and can achieve abstracted absolution. Plan: How many hours pay the rent and the rest of the drip? Remainder can be devoted to something else. Wreck your body, don’t sleep, and keep shuffling, had enough time of half-recovery. Wrecking your body anyway so make no illusions about a change in pace. Switch now into self-sacrifice. Lock all this stupidity back up, not even you benefit from it. Don’t expect anything. Pay, work, give, and zero needs mental or other. Life seems better that way. Pretend you have no twin.
~
If you could record thoughts what would you make of all the blank spaces? There is more data than we can imagine. More data more data. Anything you like. More data thrown up in order to process more data. Leave them in folders. Folders of *****. If legs could work they would run. Might. Go missing. Never suicide but maybe go missing. There were tangible things blotted away by fear and hurt. Not hopeful. Borne of this could be something worth looking back on. Time to think. Rollerblade between bubbles now, grass blowing into balloon animals stretches the hair on the head until so thin nobody will want to **** that head anymore. Ears red-zoom in on canals thick with inflammation and damaged chicken-haired cells that aren’t coming back. This will not get better. All that are left are diagrams, cut loose from the original context and lying disused. Pull things together, don’t misuse. Watch papers fall to the floor. Walk away.
~
Using bad language like ‘can’t’ for refuge. Don’t force function; it’s needed, O tearing self from self. Hating your twin. My twin ate me and became unlovableunfuckable. Create creatures instead. Push form into something more organic than organic – how was it remembered. False figures false organs pouring out pigs-tongue, locked in the supply closet. Never go to the teacher’s lounge, it is a terrible place full of function and sweat. Not adult like all other teachers. Let students see weakness, it’s portentous of the future. Never will be rich in the religious sense. Chose it. Bathing in it. Nobody else should get in the tub. Want to run. World’s mercy lasted yet, waiting for it not to last but will only know when more risks are taken. Walk away with phone dead in pocket, no chance of recharge and cause panic – mild distaste turns to hatred, problem solved. Be careful to play a long internal game. Feel epigenetic throbbing.
~
Words are gone, and instead shapes bubble from tangible physical observations, stretching up into things that are different enough to find comfort in. Can’t give it out, can’t be asked questions because none of the answers are explainable. Should swear silence and communicate with images. Words were once all and image nothing prior to rejection and age: mental auto-immunity. Not much left before body selling means nothing, wince when it comes up in conversation, nobody needs to know but compulsion’s to tell everyone. Maybe this is the way to make a difference; show humanoid vulnerability, reminding the world that people exist in all corners and really, we’re ok right? Lets co-exist together and in return you can ******* once more in peace. Never a dull moment.
~
Locked in, looking across there is no window that you can’t see yourself in. Looking back. Uniform heights and weights and squares upon squares, regardless of scale. If I see another square I will *****. Tiled floors here are the same as in the museum; you hated them, so I had a shot. Get some ideas down. Images shifted from one medium to another will yield something. Cannot escape the thought that making non-political art is self-indulgent and irresponsible, while political art is best left to someone else. God only unnerves. Almighty someone else can stand. It is still irresponsible to be small? Take-me-out-of-it is not possible with a clear conscience. Gotta break some heart-eggs.
~
Want help with math – sit on down. Work hard, give everything away, don’t have to think about anything and can achieve abstracted absolution. Plan: How many hours pay the rent and the rest of the drip? Remainder can be devoted to something else. Wreck your body, don’t sleep, and keep shuffling, had enough time of half-recovery. Wrecking your body anyway so make no illusions about a change in pace. Switch now into self-sacrifice. Lock all this stupidity back up, not even you benefit from it. Don’t expect anything. Pay, work, give, and zero needs mental or other. Life seems better that way. Pretend you have no twin.
