The City X

The city is made of desire and befriends it.  The city's center, its eye of speed, if found and visited, returns the human's stare and rewards its interest with the pool of its pupil.  Should this black joyful moment occur, the human should not hesitate, but leap; should the fortune of the moment continue, the human may see desire's composition.

The black eye of the city and the white eye of the mirror are one.  Eye on eye and stare on stare, they are the fulfillment and negation of color.  This contradiction is the human and the city and desire.

In the swirl and stomach of the city, I prefer to relate to the human through as many intermediaries as possible, and as few.  With the former, I bounce from object to object like a pinball with no exit and thus mimic the city's movement; with the latter, I negate the human by becoming the object.  Either object or object of the object:  these are my modes in the city of stomach and swirl.  The human, though, prefers one, two or perhaps three intermediaries between itself and stench.  This preference of the human I call society.

As the human dissolves in the city's desire, desire increasingly becomes the definition of the human; God and all He stood for¾for the human, not for him¾all He stood for¾only non-desire¾becomes so remote that neither the height of God's past nor the depths of his deathly presence can be sensed by the human.  In the aesthetic tumult of the city, non-desire, God, the good, only become known through their contraries:  desire, the human, the mediocre.  (Evil is only good's contrary in the human; in God, compromise, which is the movement away from absolute perfection and debauchery toward mediocrity's expected tedious conformity to the human's social roulette, is the opposite of good.)

The human, if it has any nobility, accepts the style of death synchronous with its soul.  (But, then, we could say that each human is strangely noble.)  So God accepted his death and so eventually the city must accept its.

The city, for all practical purposes¾and what is the city but purpose and practice?¾is endless; the human explores and leaps and lives and never experiences an end … only beginnings.  So the city's time is always future.  The great explorers of the city may eventually get weary, but it is not from a lack of beginnings, but rather an excess of them.  Even should the explorer return again and again to the same region of the city, each piece of garbage cries out for life by claiming an archaeology, a discipline, an identity.  The city is not contained in this waste fragment, yet it is.  The reality that it is is what wearies the explorer as much as the reality that it isn't¾for there is an equal infinity to explore in both realities.  However, as the city is oriented toward what is (only God is oriented toward what is not), the explorer tends to move from object to object rather than simply move in the gravity of one.  This endlessness of movement both wearies and further stimulates all encountered objects to endlessly move.