imaginations revenge

-->

the unlocal news says theres no local news anymore   no   earth news is the local news

natures table is set for everyone

each word document welcomes me back when its reopened   the sentiments are surely reciprocal

the trees are electric snakes in the murky suburbs of the trains strange passage

she arrives and just lives at the big house   she lives at the big house and she lives there for a long time and the childs umbilical cord comes off and she still lives there and she lives there for a long time and the child gets older   he gets older and he crawls  he stands  he toddles  he walks well  and then he is grown up

why do you delight in not conforming to code?

its neither a matter of delight nor conformity … its just that different texts comprise my blood

ive long realized my primary task in the brief space ive been given to occupy the clock of vision is to build reasonable asylums for myself – places of refuge from human violation in which i can wander in an oneiric sensuousness that makes far more sense to me (with me) than the scrimmages of what is often called my civilization  culture  society

to design without design  to live without life  to heal without healing  to see without seeing  to love without loving  to suffer without suffering  to hate without hating  to dream without dreaming  to die without dying 

if one enters death in consciousness not to return from it into life – with messages visions actions vigours (these common expectations) – but stays in it – not to accomplish anything in it (for this would seem that one hadnt truly entered that realm) not to …

for death’s objectives  if they exist  avoid the grammatical and verbal structures of the living languages   and thus if there is a to to it it might be this: to – however futilely destructively invisibly – seek deaths grammars and – however falsely misleadingly murkily – describe them … or perhaps more accurately attempt to trace them in the vapours of ones body

depression is a gift  an antidote to skyscrapers  we should enthusiastically unwrap   theres still a clambering (an ambition) but down and around – less with and against other visible clambering creatures and more alongside forgotten fragmented tribes of a kind of simulated wraithishness  an ambition that thrives but goes nowhere  no more given to assertion than oblivion  to vertical geometries than dimensions of other orders

it took a long time for the outsider inside me to find outside and once it did only the inside remained

one is never too young to die for one is never too old to live

i eat myself like an autoscatophagus

i am tasty like an upscale chocolate artichoke

i run away like escherichia cocobacchanalia

the only answer to the cruelty of life is the scorn of imagination

civilization has as one of its mandatory mandates – enforceable as all these are with the full force of the state apparatus and its accomplices: the knowledge pecuniary health and justice industries – to turn enthusiasm into force (and laundered force in the form of privilege is still irrevocably force [perhaps even more so through its diffusionary capacities])

if we want to change the narratives – if we must change the narratives – what does it mean to our participation in the present narratives?

they are well in a sick system  the other theys sick in a nonexistent well system   because it is said to exist is the sick system well and because it is said to not exist is the well system sick

invalidation is at the heart of the human – this is why mysticism is true … it transforms (composts) (in the dark soul of the farnear soul) invalidation to something else: this something else …

the languages within languages : the cities within cities   the art galleries of the world  the same city  the drug deals of the world another   the languages of apophatic aestheticism  weekend consumerism  ecovegan justice  academic feminist intersectionality  entomological taxonomization  incompatible to some or a large degree  it doesnt matter whether one speaks them in rundi  twi  SJM  heptapod  or telugu

                  a psycholinguisticbalkanization of what was once supposed to be a single species