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#deleuze
Exploded: Two green lines out of the dog and human’s body In it they thought of the forced expansion of meaning Unconsensual development Let it explode radically out of a chamber of infiltration and distrust Simple green lines explode towards the wall out of the dog and human’s body
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Jan 10, 2022
Jan 10, 2022 at 7:12 PM UTC
explode
I LIKE TO THINK HOW WE WILT petalbypetal AT AN EXPONENTIAL RATE secondbysecond BREAKS OUR EXOS DOWN TO AIR limbbylimb TO ONLY BRAINS WE'LL BE handbyhand GROWING & PUSHING & RIPPING seambyseam APART FADED CORPSES, BURSTING inchbyinch FROM HOSPICES & GRAVES breathbybreath DEAD FLOWER CROWNS COLORED budbybud THE RED OF POMEGRANATES cellbycell
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Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 4:37 PM UTC
Crowns
askew undoing the worthless match over and over and over and over
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
yourself; a body without organs
they say god is perfect. that holds true for me, too. no concept contains me in totality. Stirner wrestled with the undefinable: an indefatigable Unique, anarchic, lacking category. Camus perhaps said it best, "i rebel, therefore i exist." i strive to personify resistance. i find the answers in harmony with Counterparts, defining *The Difference Between Hell and Home*: "i am what i am and i am an outcast." an outlaw, a nobody akin to Nietzsche, returning infinitely— stretched like so many grains of sand on time's flat surface, orbiting eternally around the creative Nothing at half-past 3:00 in the morning. a singularity, deconstructing Derrida's Différance. a nomad on the margins, wandering aimlessly, roaming perpetually with Deleuze and Foucault, an astronaut arranged along the endless frontiers of an ever-expanding cosmos. Vonnegut recognized the periphery affords a radical view to the few who choose to embrace that which cannot be Known. a zero-sum game between Death and me, staving off manic-depressive ennui if only momentarily.
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 2:55 AM UTC
outlaw
ººº *Beware lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit, according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world, and not according to Christ.* Colossians 2:4-8 (NKJV) His Nietzschean trip moved from Comic toward Tragic: Deleuze’s delusions flew out the fenêtre Airborne and ****** on philosphy’s magic (the nihilist suicide’s raison d’être…) Propelled from the window, transcending the Ontic, his organless body in textual flight, a schiz-flow beyond on a voyage turned frantic. His thought – a nomadic adornment for speed, multiplicitly viewing a thousand plateaux was a force for unhinging the doorways of light and a plea for postmodern decoding indeed. His frame soon encountered pure striated space in the form of the pavement caressing his face. He joins other smokers of Gallic tabac, other esotericians of cognitive frenzy (those mullahs of madness, those sultans of Whack…) Sorely missed by his victims, disciples and friends he is mourned, misinterpreted, copied, dismissed – but for semioticians he heads up the list. Another brave Frenchman, some guy named Debord a bespectacled Marxist (who missed all the marks) made the mediums’ message a radical bore dialectically fading the lights into darks. Indirectly disrupting pop-culture with Punk and other anarchic phenomena-junk, he too chose to leave with a nihilist bang – while we whimper and suffer down here with the gang. The old situationist’s last situation: an agit-prop funeral short on elation… So to French de-constructor-philosopher-ravers and all who rejoice while society wavers I offer these lines, like a quick coup-de-grace and be warned – they’re now viewing the Good Lord en face.
0
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Deleuzional
ººº *Beware lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit, according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world, and not according to Christ.* Colossians 2:4-8 (NKJV) His Nietzschean trip moved from Comic toward Tragic: Deleuze’s delusions flew out the fenêtre Airborne and ****** on philosphy’s magic (the nihilist suicide’s raison d’être…) Propelled from the window, transcending the Ontic, his organless body in textual flight, a schiz-flow beyond on a voyage turned frantic. His thought – a nomadic adornment for speed, multiplicitly viewing a thousand plateaux was a force for unhinging the doorways of light and a plea for postmodern decoding indeed. His frame soon encountered pure striated space in the form of the pavement caressing his face. He joins other smokers of Gallic tabac, other esotericians of cognitive frenzy (those mullahs of madness, those sultans of Whack…) Sorely missed by his victims, disciples and friends he is mourned, misinterpreted, copied, dismissed – but for semioticians he heads up the list. Another brave Frenchman, some guy named Debord a bespectacled Marxist (who missed all the marks) made the mediums’ message a radical bore dialectically fading the lights into darks. Indirectly disrupting pop-culture with Punk and other anarchic phenomena-junk, he too chose to leave with a nihilist bang – while we whimper and suffer down here with the gang. The old situationist’s last situation: an agit-prop funeral short on elation… So to French de-constructor-philosopher-ravers and all who rejoice while society wavers I offer these lines, like a quick coup-de-grace and be warned – they’re now viewing the Good Lord en face.
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