the annihilated i

dumbarton demelza

chats with edmond on beached words

house of eels

shell cells

certified desertified

sand conurbations

i inhabit a circular desert

all deserts are circles

wherever i am pitched i’m at the desert’s center for its horizons – the walls of my selves and equally my home – are infinite and from an eternally equal distance babble incomprehensible harmonies

you’re incarcerated in an indiscernible cell of the center with empty horizons as your boundaries

no matter where i move my situation remains the same

oh flexible cell

god is an umbrella protecting us from god

the desert you inhabit is you – or rather the annihilated i you find within the i

whether i say this i or that i, these i’s or those i’s, some i’s or the or an i, makes little difference to the structures and processes of my home or how i live. all these ways of saying say in their way the annihilated i

you’ve tried – quite comically it must be said, for comedy pervades your attempts more than any other attribute (comedy being the intractable juxtaposition between primordial energies that a singularity futilely treats tractably) – to leave the desert, to dedesert the desert, to desert the undesert … but now you’ve grown tired of those amusements (having broadly experienced the plasmatic holography of environmental immersion and the definitional monumentality of human society) and in this weariness is a laughter of your present presence

oh comprehensive analysis

monumentality hides within plasma, plasma in monument. these hidings as other hidings hide another kind of laughter

the knowledge of my land – increasingly indistinguishable from what the dominant tongue calls self-knowledge – i find written under rubble of the annihilated i

the text you find is dreams of water written on dreams of sand

the text and the knowledge … more rubble of the annihilated i. it’s rubble all the way down. i dig

god is movement

the circle of the desert – its infinite circumference of disintegrating sameness – is the movement god traces on itself

a metro is a desert insect – scurrying nowhere, uncomfortable with the supraterrane, efficient, providing the human a unique opportunity to travel under the sand at minimal cost

when i wander alone in places in which i know no one (this lack of acquaintance a portal to resemblance), the places i wander – through movement, through aloneness – are everyplace and so assume the environment of space before description. space of annihilated i

it’s said the city doesn’t reveal the desert but the desert reveals the city. yet it’s also said that the city is the primary revealer of the desert and the desert hides the city

strange truth reconciled only in contradiction. not any contradiction of words but of environment, of the kinship of hiding and revealing

cities are built of sand but deserts not of cities

i, being city and desert, am built of words

sadoo is city and desert in one flesh and so a flesh that speaks not the tension of societal scrimmage, of the oppositions and incompatibilities – whether comic or tragic – between human characters … but the tensions in god estranged from god

when i move in places where the humans speak a language i understand it can occasionally be tempting to believe in a communicable sensuousness more difficult to embrace in what are conveniently often called foreign environments. but the difference is more one of the interplay of light on the indefinable structures of infinity

are the i’s that aren’t annihilated i’s i’s?

they’re spear share snouts

god is etymology and the desert is words

i inhabit circular words

their horizons are infinite and their center the annihilated i