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#veganism
I wish to keep the wishbone within the body, Not snap apart a life under the guise of luck. Collect lost pennies, not lives, You evil murdering *****
0
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 8:28 AM UTC
Wishbone
Brown Brown brown A majestic salute Of this **** on bone Into my mouth Irreverent despise This effigious moment Of makes my surmise Of this meat from this plate Surety tu sate It's Satan's will In deep do I swill Of all the kingdom's fawn Fauna's adorn Adorn ornate From the midth of my plate Into my bellies belie Belittle my sweet tooth From tooth suit sooth The feel of my carnivorous desire And it's encroach To ****** from the animal kingdom A bane or benign male Or of femality A skinned creature or scaled Once skinned then scaled To the nth of my teeth From it's evolutionary course To my 'mmms' whence eat "I farm therefore I am" My requite My requiem It's internment within my duodenum If we as homosapien We're a little lower Of the evolutionary ladder A little closer To the whipchuk and adder Perhaps this incongruity Would seem of insurmount That we would not take from the platter Of that skitter skatter Of paws and of hoof Of feather and of scale For it not our right To interrupt the plight Of species cultural agare And of universal development Of ******** disposition And it's extant Perhaps we'd be more likely To drop a tear Than a mensonge long of langue A salivating spittle Like the whistle and the sizzle Of that press upon the plate Of heated black iron The steam and the vapour Testament to the savour To the saviour of the meal As any connoisseur can tell you Unless they alien to meat The saviour of the meal That muscular tender form That reared from the twinkle To the wink The seed met it's drink The phoetus To the expressed ******** delight This formling's fledgling plight As it's eyes burn to new light Of its heart and marrow and sinew All fodder to our ensue Of it's marriage to this world Now married to our plate Its existence to sate Our sensory intuition And if questioned The lesser the tuition Of salt and fat to the sate Of blood and metal to the taste Of bone and cartilage the waste Unless hungry enough to chew And **** it's marrow clean And this meal As if adieou Of all memory Of that beast's sense Of this reality And this brown brown brown The king and capital of plate And our position upon the evolutionary ladder A little less seemingly madder Of this culture of interrupting culture For the satisfaction of our tongue And of this insanity Most seemingly insane Shall affirm of our humane As our cultural attest To the other species detest That the brown brown brown Be a salute From fork to mute Of our common humanity For whose going to stop us The birds or the bees And this brown brown brown Be the flag of the humanity we wear From infamy of mind To the pork and the pear Laid bare Upon our shirt or lapel Surely if we are to grapple With ideas of genocide's justification It's after picking the brown fibre Of a pig's won't to pork Upon your new shirt With a clean silver fork Or after dessert
0
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 1:56 AM UTC
Veganism No#3
Brown Brown brown A majestic salute Of this **** on bone Into my mouth Irreverent despise This effigious moment Of makes my surmise Of this meat from this plate Surety tu sate It's Satan's will In deep do I swill Of all the kingdom's fawn Fauna's adorn Adorn ornate From the midth of my plate Into my bellies belie Belittle my sweet tooth From tooth suit sooth The feel of my carnivorous desire And it's encroach To ****** from the animal kingdom A bane or benign male Or of femality A skinned creature or scaled Once skinned then scaled To the nth of my teeth From it's evolutionary course To my 'mmms' whence eat "I farm therefore I am" My requite My requiem It's internment within my duodenum If we as homosapien We're a little lower Of the evolutionary ladder A little closer To the whipchuk and adder Perhaps this incongruity Would seem of insurmount That we would not take from the platter Of that skitter skatter Of paws and of hoof Of feather and of scale For it not our right To interrupt the plight Of species cultural agare And of universal development Of ******** disposition And it's extant Perhaps we'd be more likely To drop a tear Than a mensonge long of langue A salivating spittle Like the whistle and the sizzle Of that press upon the plate Of heated black iron The steam and the vapour Testament to the savour To the saviour of the meal As any connoisseur can tell you Unless they alien to meat The saviour of the meal That muscular tender form That reared from the twinkle To the wink The seed met it's drink The phoetus To the expressed ******** delight This formling's fledgling plight As it's eyes burn to new light Of its heart and marrow and sinew All fodder to our ensue Of it's marriage to this world Now married to our plate Its existence to sate Our sensory intuition And if questioned The lesser the tuition Of salt and fat to the sate Of blood and metal to the taste Of bone and cartilage the waste Unless hungry enough to chew And **** it's marrow clean And this meal As if adieou Of all memory Of that beast's sense Of this reality And this brown brown brown The king and capital of plate And our position upon the evolutionary ladder A little less seemingly madder Of this culture of interrupting culture For the satisfaction of our tongue And of this insanity Most seemingly insane Shall affirm of our humane As our cultural attest To the other species detest That the brown brown brown Be a salute From fork to mute Of our common humanity For whose going to stop us The birds or the bees And this brown brown brown Be the flag of the humanity we wear From infamy of mind To the pork and the pear Laid bare Upon our shirt or lapel Surely if we are to grapple With ideas of genocide's justification It's after picking the brown fibre Of a pig's won't to pork Upon your new shirt With a clean silver fork Or after dessert
Continue reading...
119
I don't eat no beef No **** no lamb no swine Only on the verdurous etch Doest I within my thine I dine I don't eat Jellie and sauces slick with ill Confounded with animal **** Nor powders and honeys dripping and grime Spent with the wretch of genocide's time I don't hunt for game or trophy **** I don't glorify **** or bile or swill I don't bow to the customs and conventions of now Now matter what serve of the demonic a sow I don't **** my brother or sister for food It's not blood on my hands that's reddened and hued So why take the life of an innocent babe? An animal born here of terrestrial habe? What for the taste of delicious a flesh? To accompany sauce Cantonese wan szech? Or is it to sate gastronomy? That bloodies the hands of you and me? That forces the carnivore? To act the ****** ***** And ***** an animal innocent and bright Is this self deified act requite? What do you proclaim to be? To ****** an animal's right to be? A god with insight and power so great? To forsake your right to heaven with hate? Or a devil or demon anon? To justify your sleepy murderous throng? Or merely a human who follows the lead? Of our common culture's bane banal creed? So what is it that drives you to the deed exact? To cut the throat of creatures in act? Are you saying that murders ok? And you'd enact this upon your own whether or may? If you could knock or whack a human for merely the taste of its flesh? And not because their discord did not mesh? With your idea of what justifies life? And end a being forever of strife? Is it ok for aliens to prey? Upon our earthen developments stay? And enslave our species to sate their gut? To fawn and feed and slupper and glut? Because they have a higher IQ? Or more dextrous fingers with which to hew? Are you sure you want to be an unthinking one? Of the masses maraud and to the deed done? As somnambulist reaching with a laden gun And end life forthwith no winner or won Unless you count dinner to the taste of your tongue Trained since a child to sing the song sung Of the glory of meat as to salivate and savour As if bowing to the idea of what will crave ya Haven't you ever heard of an acquired taste? Well couldn't we now apply this with grace?
0
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 11:48 PM UTC
Veganism No#2: A contrivance
I don't eat no beef No **** no lamb no swine Only on the verdurous etch Doest I within my thine I dine I don't eat Jellie and sauces slick with ill Confounded with animal **** Nor powders and honeys dripping and grime Spent with the wretch of genocide's time I don't hunt for game or trophy **** I don't glorify **** or bile or swill I don't bow to the customs and conventions of now Now matter what serve of the demonic a sow I don't **** my brother or sister for food It's not blood on my hands that's reddened and hued So why take the life of an innocent babe? An animal born here of terrestrial habe? What for the taste of delicious a flesh? To accompany sauce Cantonese wan szech? Or is it to sate gastronomy? That bloodies the hands of you and me? That forces the carnivore? To act the ****** ***** And ***** an animal innocent and bright Is this self deified act requite? What do you proclaim to be? To ****** an animal's right to be? A god with insight and power so great? To forsake your right to heaven with hate? Or a devil or demon anon? To justify your sleepy murderous throng? Or merely a human who follows the lead? Of our common culture's bane banal creed? So what is it that drives you to the deed exact? To cut the throat of creatures in act? Are you saying that murders ok? And you'd enact this upon your own whether or may? If you could knock or whack a human for merely the taste of its flesh? And not because their discord did not mesh? With your idea of what justifies life? And end a being forever of strife? Is it ok for aliens to prey? Upon our earthen developments stay? And enslave our species to sate their gut? To fawn and feed and slupper and glut? Because they have a higher IQ? Or more dextrous fingers with which to hew? Are you sure you want to be an unthinking one? Of the masses maraud and to the deed done? As somnambulist reaching with a laden gun And end life forthwith no winner or won Unless you count dinner to the taste of your tongue Trained since a child to sing the song sung Of the glory of meat as to salivate and savour As if bowing to the idea of what will crave ya Haven't you ever heard of an acquired taste? Well couldn't we now apply this with grace?
Continue reading...
56
Brown Brown brown A majestic salute Of this **** on bone Into my mouth Irreverent despise This effigious moment Of makes my surmise Of this meat from this plate Surety tu sate It's Satan's will In deep do I swill Of all the kingdom's fawn Fauna's adorn Adorn ornate From the midth of my plate Into my bellies belie Belittle my sweet tooth From tooth suit sooth The feel of my carnivorous desire And it's encroach To ****** from the animal kingdom A bane or benign male Or of femality A skinned creature or scaled Once skinned then scaled To the nth of my teeth From it's evolutionary course To my 'mmms' whence eat "I farm therefore I am" My requite My requiem It's internment within my duodenum If we as homosapien We're a little lower Of the evolutionary ladder A little closer To the whipchuk and adder Perhaps this incongruity Would seem of insurmount That we would not take from the platter Of that skitter skatter Of paws and of hoof Of feather and of scale For it not our right To interrupt the plight Of species cultural agare And of universal development Of ******** disposition And it's extant Perhaps we'd be more likely To drop a tear Than a longe long of langue A salivating spittle Like the whistle and the sizzle Of that press upon the plate Of heated black iron The steam and the vapour Testament to the savour To the saviour of the meal As any connoisseur can tell you Unless they alien to meat The saviour of the meal That muscular tender form That reared from the twinkle To the wink The seed met it's drink The phoetus To the expressed ******** delight This formling's fledgling plight As it's eyes burn to new light Of its heart and marrow and sinew All fodder to our ensue Of it's marriage to this world Now married to our plate Its existence to sate Our sensory intuition And if questioned The lesser the tuition Of salt and fat to the sate Of blood and metal to the taste Of bone and cartilage the waste Unless hungry enough to chew And **** it's marrow clean And this meal As if adieou Of all memory Of that beast's sense Of this reality And this brown brown brown The king and capital of plate And our position upon the evolutionary ladder A little less seemingly madder Of this culture of interrupting culture For the satisfaction of our tongue And of this insanity Most seemingly insane Shall affirm of our humane As our cultural attest To the other species detest That the brown brown brown Be a salute From fork to mute Of our common humanity For whose going to stop us The birds or the bees And this brown brown brown Be the flag of the humanity we wear From infamy of mind To the pork and the pear Laid bare Upon our shirt or lapel Surely if we are to grapple With ideas of genocide's justification It's after picking the brown fibre Of a pig's won't to pork Upon your new shirt With a clean silver fork Or after dessert
0
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
Veganism
Brown Brown brown A majestic salute Of this **** on bone Into my mouth Irreverent despise This effigious moment Of makes my surmise Of this meat from this plate Surety tu sate It's Satan's will In deep do I swill Of all the kingdom's fawn Fauna's adorn Adorn ornate From the midth of my plate Into my bellies belie Belittle my sweet tooth From tooth suit sooth The feel of my carnivorous desire And it's encroach To ****** from the animal kingdom A bane or benign male Or of femality A skinned creature or scaled Once skinned then scaled To the nth of my teeth From it's evolutionary course To my 'mmms' whence eat "I farm therefore I am" My requite My requiem It's internment within my duodenum If we as homosapien We're a little lower Of the evolutionary ladder A little closer To the whipchuk and adder Perhaps this incongruity Would seem of insurmount That we would not take from the platter Of that skitter skatter Of paws and of hoof Of feather and of scale For it not our right To interrupt the plight Of species cultural agare And of universal development Of ******** disposition And it's extant Perhaps we'd be more likely To drop a tear Than a longe long of langue A salivating spittle Like the whistle and the sizzle Of that press upon the plate Of heated black iron The steam and the vapour Testament to the savour To the saviour of the meal As any connoisseur can tell you Unless they alien to meat The saviour of the meal That muscular tender form That reared from the twinkle To the wink The seed met it's drink The phoetus To the expressed ******** delight This formling's fledgling plight As it's eyes burn to new light Of its heart and marrow and sinew All fodder to our ensue Of it's marriage to this world Now married to our plate Its existence to sate Our sensory intuition And if questioned The lesser the tuition Of salt and fat to the sate Of blood and metal to the taste Of bone and cartilage the waste Unless hungry enough to chew And **** it's marrow clean And this meal As if adieou Of all memory Of that beast's sense Of this reality And this brown brown brown The king and capital of plate And our position upon the evolutionary ladder A little less seemingly madder Of this culture of interrupting culture For the satisfaction of our tongue And of this insanity Most seemingly insane Shall affirm of our humane As our cultural attest To the other species detest That the brown brown brown Be a salute From fork to mute Of our common humanity For whose going to stop us The birds or the bees And this brown brown brown Be the flag of the humanity we wear From infamy of mind To the pork and the pear Laid bare Upon our shirt or lapel Surely if we are to grapple With ideas of genocide's justification It's after picking the brown fibre Of a pig's won't to pork Upon your new shirt With a clean silver fork Or after dessert
Continue reading...
119
Beneath the cloth and within a wire cage exists a living, breathing sentient being that is owned by the artist. Although the creature may seem to be in distress, the artist gains an economic advantage through use of the creature in his work, and his economic interests are protected by law. Please be aware that any tampering with the artwork, including removal of the cloth, shall be regarded as vandalism, and you may be required to purchase.
0
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 5:56 PM UTC
The artist
I will board this train so that veganism remains.
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
Vegan Train
A sacred line between "Plants are Alive" and "Animals that Survive". This stems from the vine that reached the minds, who went vegan in time. A rise above the ground to eat only plants and grains from the ground and any fruit laying around. This has been the talk of the town, any voices around. From any blogs I have found to the speakers in bound. The community around Allow this to be the map you have missed to find a diet of bliss that your taste buds don't miss. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Random line: So, board this train so veganism remains.
0
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
Vegan Poetry
With a bang or a slice a life is taken in a matter of seconds and put on your plate Seasoned with salt and pepper you disguise the taste of ****** with a sizzle The taste of death is a forkful away and if you just slather a sauce on it, it’s like it just vanishes **** With a cut of the rare muscle of a cow Be the change, child. You can save them. The compassion for a life is gone even though you scream “I love animals” for everyone to hear. Lies That’s all I hear. Splash. Pus and bacteria is poured into the bowl on sugary cereal. “It’s a great source of calcium” they say. I say it’s a great source of breast cancer taking years off your life. Don't do it for yourself. Do it for them. Do it for their lives. Please child. Be the change. The thousands of animals murdered in seconds. Fun fact 3,000 animals die every second in slaughterhouses around the world. 1, 2, 3. 9,000 gone. Is this a world you want to live in? A world where animals are pumped full of hormones and antibiotics for the benefit of a meal you're going to forget about in a week from now? Be the change, child. I know you can do it. The alternatives are out there. Use them. Save lives. Please child be the change. You're the hope they have in their eyes. Fun fact for your taste buds animals are kept in such small spaces so they can't move. It tastes better, right? No.
0
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC
the bang of veganism
Barbiturate is one of the few drugs capable of killing you painlessly, so of course the state has banned it. Instead we get paracetamol, a ****** over-the-counter painkiller that leaves you in pain for up to five days while your liver and kidneys shut down. Suicide prevention is a ******* joke. Secular appropriations of Christian values that assume life is worthwhile, whether you desire it or not. It’s long been known that rates of suicide rose dramatically with the birth of modernity—techno-scientific paradise for the middle-class which stresses efficiency over existence. New forms of automation, the human body disciplined into repetitious acts, the partitioning of workspaces so that no single worker could operate the whole—so that any worker could be fired and replaced with the minimum amount of training necessary for capital to continue circulating. The body is individualised, scrutinised, and punished by rich kids playing panopticon, so that any mass agitation is coerced into silence through the threat of destitution. Slitting your wrists barely succeeds and more likely than not leaves you with tendon and muscle damage. Catalytic converters in cars now convert carbon monoxide into harmless CO2 and H2O. Drowning is one of the most painful ways to die. You cannot escape. The state places helpline numbers around suicide spots to treat life after the fact, rather than at the source of suffering. Vocal band-aids, ****** ******* aphorisms that seek to revert you back into a happy state-serving commodity. Things will get better. Life is worth living. Think positive. Alienation is omnipresent. Neoliberal discourse requires you to be subservient to the greater system of capital and the easiest way towards this is the instilment of comfort, of pleasant nullity, the circumscription of emotional capacity and reflectivity. Suicidal thoughts are abnormal, because life is worth living. Eat your packaged food item and watch Netflix. For a drop into water to be fatal, it has to be 250 feet. Try to aim for your head to maximise brain injury. The most prominent suicide spot around here has a drop of 100 feet. They cordoned it off anyway. Your life doesn’t belong to you. The first time I tried to suicide my mother asked ‘why would you do that?’ as if it was the dumbest thing in the world. The second time, the doctor looked at me in an exasperated manner and prescribed me lots of drugs. Geettt bettterrrr. Nobody cares about you, they simply want you to return to normal. Normality as in serving your parents, serving your friends, serving the state, and serving the market. Normality as in not questioning social norms and institutions. Normality as in get a stable job (i.e. compete against other workers in an exploitative, undemocratic system that values and inculcates self-serving desires), get married (preferably to someone of the opposite *** who is middle-class and imbibes European culture), get pregnant/get someone pregnant (but only once or twice, because anyone who has more children than that is backwards), invest in housing (those students and lower-class families need to learn how the world works; really, it’s a benefit to take their money), watch sports (to instil national pride in your children; no son, we didn’t colonise the Pacific Islands, keep watching the man with the wooden stick hit ***** eat out every week (preferably exotic restaurants), go see the world (preferably exotic locations, so you can be served by exotic people, take in exotic sights, then leave without considering where any of your money has gone to, whether any of it has reached the slums, whether the beach you lay on is accessible to the people living there, or whether it has been privatised by the tourist firm so that only rich tourists like yourself can lie on it), join a club (those capitalists were innocent, it was the indigenous folk that were making a ruckus over the new golf course; it’s not like we’ve been colonising their land and culture for the past three centuries), donate to charity (but never any charity desiring systemic change; that’s crazy), consume, always consume (keeps the economy going; why question the desire for infinite growth in a world with limited land, resources and markets?), replace your phone every year (those poor workers in Asia need our help), repeat to the point of nausea. The most successful method to suicide is a shotgun to the head; high calibre, slug rounds. Of course, with all these methods, the chance of failing may leave you disfigured, paralysed, mentally disabled or physically crippled (spinal damage, broken limbs, failed organs), with no guarantee that your family, or even your state, will allow for euthanasia. After all, the popular discourse paints suicide as selfish—an irony, considering liberalism places the self first and society second. It is viewed as sinful regardless of context—deontologically detached from anomie, alienation, material deprivation, social pressures, psychological affectations, any cause or structure. Life is worth living. This ignores that the subject is situated in existence. The subject moves through existence to live. Life, then, is the totality of the subject’s interactions. It cannot be universalised into a single state or judgement that merges all subjectivities into a catch-all worthiness. Worth is dependent of the subject. I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe I just want everyone to **** themselves, because the world is ****** and the majority of people are ******* it worse. Most people think being nice makes them good. They turn blind to the systems of oppression they partake in. A while ago my mother was asking if I’d heard about the mass suicides happening at Foxconn, the largest electronics manufacturer in the world. This year she showed me her new iPhone. I don’t ******* understand. I don’t understand how people can be outraged at humanity abuses, yet do ******* nothing to help or change their ways. Yes, market solutions are ******* **** but these commodities are still coming from somewhere, and while capitalism is in place, our money is still flowing back. I don’t understand how people can be concerned about ecological issues, then pour dishwashing liquid down the sink every night, dissolving the gills, eyes, and organs of fish in rivers and oceans. I don’t understand a ******* thing. I feel physically sick most days. I can barely function outside of university, because engaging with real people, in real systems, just reminds me of how careless, worthless, and disgusting they are. When I first turned vegan, my dad simply said plants are living too. Well no ******* **** dad, why didn’t you ask me my reason for turning vegan, rather than simply repeating the dumb **** everyone else says? If you were stuck on a desert island. Well I’m ******* not. I’m stuck on this **** world filled with nice people who don’t give a **** about anything. I’m stuck every week walking the same roads, to the same university, where I become more and more distanced from reality through abstract philosophical theories that no one else cares about. I’m stuck walking through the supermarket every week, to purchase overpriced commodities produced by transnational corporations I don’t support, but nonetheless have to buy to survive. What alternatives I buy are mocked because it's so funny being ethical in our day and age. Because it’s so much more normal eating pies, and drinking beer, and treating women like objects, and affirming nationalistic sentiments of white supremacy, and making fun of ethnic minorities while they’re incarcerated, and beaten, and killed. All lives matter, the liberal conservatives cry out, while doing ******* nothing to help any cause. I don’t understand this world, and I have no desire to be in it if this is all there is.
0
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
**** Yourself
Barbiturate is one of the few drugs capable of killing you painlessly, so of course the state has banned it. Instead we get paracetamol, a ****** over-the-counter painkiller that leaves you in pain for up to five days while your liver and kidneys shut down. Suicide prevention is a ******* joke. Secular appropriations of Christian values that assume life is worthwhile, whether you desire it or not. It’s long been known that rates of suicide rose dramatically with the birth of modernity—techno-scientific paradise for the middle-class which stresses efficiency over existence. New forms of automation, the human body disciplined into repetitious acts, the partitioning of workspaces so that no single worker could operate the whole—so that any worker could be fired and replaced with the minimum amount of training necessary for capital to continue circulating. The body is individualised, scrutinised, and punished by rich kids playing panopticon, so that any mass agitation is coerced into silence through the threat of destitution. Slitting your wrists barely succeeds and more likely than not leaves you with tendon and muscle damage. Catalytic converters in cars now convert carbon monoxide into harmless CO2 and H2O. Drowning is one of the most painful ways to die. You cannot escape. The state places helpline numbers around suicide spots to treat life after the fact, rather than at the source of suffering. Vocal band-aids, ****** ******* aphorisms that seek to revert you back into a happy state-serving commodity. Things will get better. Life is worth living. Think positive. Alienation is omnipresent. Neoliberal discourse requires you to be subservient to the greater system of capital and the easiest way towards this is the instilment of comfort, of pleasant nullity, the circumscription of emotional capacity and reflectivity. Suicidal thoughts are abnormal, because life is worth living. Eat your packaged food item and watch Netflix. For a drop into water to be fatal, it has to be 250 feet. Try to aim for your head to maximise brain injury. The most prominent suicide spot around here has a drop of 100 feet. They cordoned it off anyway. Your life doesn’t belong to you. The first time I tried to suicide my mother asked ‘why would you do that?’ as if it was the dumbest thing in the world. The second time, the doctor looked at me in an exasperated manner and prescribed me lots of drugs. Geettt bettterrrr. Nobody cares about you, they simply want you to return to normal. Normality as in serving your parents, serving your friends, serving the state, and serving the market. Normality as in not questioning social norms and institutions. Normality as in get a stable job (i.e. compete against other workers in an exploitative, undemocratic system that values and inculcates self-serving desires), get married (preferably to someone of the opposite *** who is middle-class and imbibes European culture), get pregnant/get someone pregnant (but only once or twice, because anyone who has more children than that is backwards), invest in housing (those students and lower-class families need to learn how the world works; really, it’s a benefit to take their money), watch sports (to instil national pride in your children; no son, we didn’t colonise the Pacific Islands, keep watching the man with the wooden stick hit ***** eat out every week (preferably exotic restaurants), go see the world (preferably exotic locations, so you can be served by exotic people, take in exotic sights, then leave without considering where any of your money has gone to, whether any of it has reached the slums, whether the beach you lay on is accessible to the people living there, or whether it has been privatised by the tourist firm so that only rich tourists like yourself can lie on it), join a club (those capitalists were innocent, it was the indigenous folk that were making a ruckus over the new golf course; it’s not like we’ve been colonising their land and culture for the past three centuries), donate to charity (but never any charity desiring systemic change; that’s crazy), consume, always consume (keeps the economy going; why question the desire for infinite growth in a world with limited land, resources and markets?), replace your phone every year (those poor workers in Asia need our help), repeat to the point of nausea. The most successful method to suicide is a shotgun to the head; high calibre, slug rounds. Of course, with all these methods, the chance of failing may leave you disfigured, paralysed, mentally disabled or physically crippled (spinal damage, broken limbs, failed organs), with no guarantee that your family, or even your state, will allow for euthanasia. After all, the popular discourse paints suicide as selfish—an irony, considering liberalism places the self first and society second. It is viewed as sinful regardless of context—deontologically detached from anomie, alienation, material deprivation, social pressures, psychological affectations, any cause or structure. Life is worth living. This ignores that the subject is situated in existence. The subject moves through existence to live. Life, then, is the totality of the subject’s interactions. It cannot be universalised into a single state or judgement that merges all subjectivities into a catch-all worthiness. Worth is dependent of the subject. I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe I just want everyone to **** themselves, because the world is ****** and the majority of people are ******* it worse. Most people think being nice makes them good. They turn blind to the systems of oppression they partake in. A while ago my mother was asking if I’d heard about the mass suicides happening at Foxconn, the largest electronics manufacturer in the world. This year she showed me her new iPhone. I don’t ******* understand. I don’t understand how people can be outraged at humanity abuses, yet do ******* nothing to help or change their ways. Yes, market solutions are ******* **** but these commodities are still coming from somewhere, and while capitalism is in place, our money is still flowing back. I don’t understand how people can be concerned about ecological issues, then pour dishwashing liquid down the sink every night, dissolving the gills, eyes, and organs of fish in rivers and oceans. I don’t understand a ******* thing. I feel physically sick most days. I can barely function outside of university, because engaging with real people, in real systems, just reminds me of how careless, worthless, and disgusting they are. When I first turned vegan, my dad simply said plants are living too. Well no ******* **** dad, why didn’t you ask me my reason for turning vegan, rather than simply repeating the dumb **** everyone else says? If you were stuck on a desert island. Well I’m ******* not. I’m stuck on this **** world filled with nice people who don’t give a **** about anything. I’m stuck every week walking the same roads, to the same university, where I become more and more distanced from reality through abstract philosophical theories that no one else cares about. I’m stuck walking through the supermarket every week, to purchase overpriced commodities produced by transnational corporations I don’t support, but nonetheless have to buy to survive. What alternatives I buy are mocked because it's so funny being ethical in our day and age. Because it’s so much more normal eating pies, and drinking beer, and treating women like objects, and affirming nationalistic sentiments of white supremacy, and making fun of ethnic minorities while they’re incarcerated, and beaten, and killed. All lives matter, the liberal conservatives cry out, while doing ******* nothing to help any cause. I don’t understand this world, and I have no desire to be in it if this is all there is.
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5
The frame has blurred away \ Fever death arising like burst glass || mangled spines \ This is the age of fact | where the violent insertion of cancer cells into animals is applauded by scientists across the globe \ Objectivity is the new face of barbarism | death god // sublimating existence for truth \ Raw data filters from the rot of deformed limbs | tweezers crush the heads living fish // guts spill | formaldehyde fixes the flesh of squirming insects | spliced genes splay the spines of mewling mice \ There’s no doubt || biology is the practice of death \ Animals without niches \ Organs without bodies \ Cells without hosts \ An aperture maw | red // yellow // black // white | leaking nervous tissue over an absent whole \ Reality has been atomised // brutalised // banalised \ Objective knowledge replacing all critical thought << [[Muscle // nerve // fat // blood // bone \]] Experience nothing \ [[The germ cell cycles every 28 days \]] Know nothing \ [[The average lifespan of a lab rat is three years \]] Feel nothing \ [[Over one hundred million are killed yearly \]] Science saves \ Biospace severed // prescription drugs fall // epistemic // into clean white bottles \
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 7:10 PM UTC
Biospace in the Age of Epistemic Mutilation
It's all slipping through me again Remind me why I exist We trawl the seas like fingers Remind me God pushed his hands through the earth And shaped us out of blood I saw it I saw it all We turned the sea And it pattered for half a century Crackling like pig flesh Did we burn it? Peel it back Come on, peel it back! What are you, scared? What are you?
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC
ichthys
maybe a black mouth opening and closing usually you can see the gums the teeth lips stretching over them there’s nothing a gaping entrance to the void there are two stale muffins on the table one soaking in milk it’s been two hours now the room at the top of the stairs is growing louder and louder a piercing bellow drowning out all thoughts but it doesn’t i want to scream throw myself into it until my entire being is lost between the teeth the white black lacuna corn splitting from the cob a rotting banana an empty carton of milk my god, could life be any more boring? i caught a cold sneezed at the floor achoo achoo get well soon cards at my funeral loraclear on my casket dirt over grow me like a mushroom expanding into the root systems puffing into a bulbous fruit pick me and slice me but i trust only supermarket goods picked by mechanised beings ******* on an industrial conveyor belt modernity made physical look into the slaughterpens while you eat your steak barter your children for another shot of coffee hah hah hah, doesn’t affect me strutting your cash like an empty slot machine rigged to emote only with your colleagues while the television blares another thousand deaths **** this ****** world consume me until there’s nothing left everyone’s a nihilist someone brought back a dozen breadloaves from the women’s refuge eat them before they go off turning our bodies pouring soap down the sink all the fishes scales rot away they slowly sink into the depths and line the seabed with teeth and ribs
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Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
the seabed is littered with dead gaping mouths and everyone deserves to die
maybe a black mouth opening and closing usually you can see the gums the teeth lips stretching over them there’s nothing a gaping entrance to the void there are two stale muffins on the table one soaking in milk it’s been two hours now the room at the top of the stairs is growing louder and louder a piercing bellow drowning out all thoughts but it doesn’t i want to scream throw myself into it until my entire being is lost between the teeth the white black lacuna corn splitting from the cob a rotting banana an empty carton of milk my god, could life be any more boring? i caught a cold sneezed at the floor achoo achoo get well soon cards at my funeral loraclear on my casket dirt over grow me like a mushroom expanding into the root systems puffing into a bulbous fruit pick me and slice me but i trust only supermarket goods picked by mechanised beings ******* on an industrial conveyor belt modernity made physical look into the slaughterpens while you eat your steak barter your children for another shot of coffee hah hah hah, doesn’t affect me strutting your cash like an empty slot machine rigged to emote only with your colleagues while the television blares another thousand deaths **** this ****** world consume me until there’s nothing left everyone’s a nihilist someone brought back a dozen breadloaves from the women’s refuge eat them before they go off turning our bodies pouring soap down the sink all the fishes scales rot away they slowly sink into the depths and line the seabed with teeth and ribs
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53
He weeps his heart, and hangs his head, He doubles back, and follows her back to bed, She says, " Some homes are towns and lives, while others wear their homes inside." And he keeps up though he's kept out, the volatile, the sudden frown. She makes up the cupcakes but they're never vegan are they? No they're never vegan are they? He makes a gift, and wrings his thumbs, the bubble bath, the tepid tub, Outside where the rains have gone long, something gives him something strong, And he picks up where he had left off, the trouble is he doesn't know when to back off, and the cupcakes aren't vegan, sweet and such spectacular, but they really aren't eaten, now that they've been made with eggs. No the cupcakes aren't vegan, though they are quite delicious. And he loves her forever, though he never eats again. No he never eats again. No he never eats again.
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
The Cupcakes Aren't Vegan, At Least I Don't Think They Are