the methods and melioratings of turning things into ghosts

as is often typical in cultures that are rootless  whose psychic arboreta  in vitality stretching from chthonic realms through the phenomenal planes into the ethernity of air  have been clearcut for a manufacturing that rabidly obsessively severs life  creating displacements that become normalized and so this dishealth reified and pursued  what were taught  whether in our homes schools institutions temples media networks beds  serves catatonic and genocidal orientations of displacement dishealth rootlessness amputation         but other knowledges exist and for these  while we cant reassemble from the chainsawed pulp the arboreta  we can through devious means conjure simulations  sidestepping the education of the manufacturing cultures  burrowing  climbing on revolving rungless ladders  gazing into the substance of the nothingness of things  and here and there glimpse other ways and however tenuous unstable  learn and sometimes share  however ignorantly obscurely  what weve seen in shadow and dream

but how can or should we speak of knowledges which our minds have been configured to not comprehend  of which the very grammars and gestures have been lost if they ever even had the opportunity to manifest before being suppressed  lost below the towering clutters of objects  and to even begin attempting to dig for them is to likely in these infinite heaps also lose ones mind         but isnt this oracular  that one must lose ones mind  not to find it  but as in loss we might see from whatever distance the shapes of those grammars and then  however feebly incorrectly  think  though thats not the word  of speaking

to turn things into ghosts one first must turn oneself into one and then the turning becomes quite natural

technology  we can name the internet as a prime example but its the entire aperture of technology in its colossal digitalia  that divine blink on the face of geological time  propels us in these turnings

its long been said by the dispossessed that ghosts are more alive than the living and in this riddle is a truth given to those who pay no worship to the garish sun

but for one turned into a ghost the living too are ghosts and those the common living call ghosts little more than those footnoted in a dissertation on time in a museum of a library of an eternal novel

so for one whos a ghost and for whom technologys at hand the turnings are almost automatic and we pass by one another and who are you in your pretense of materiality?

utopia and uchonia have never been some positing of bliss but the realm of ghosts  quite achievable in what you might sometimes call the now and here

not many walk for pleasure through the lesser cemeteries but this ghosts are prone to do and they do it well

to sit in a meeting of business  one of power and purpose and the coffee hanging high like little stars  and to see nothing there and even the language in the air so diffused each syllables greater than the diameter of time

ghosts talk i feel and their speakings not limited to the plasmatic paragraphs of dreams but you can find it everywhere in whats called waking life  in such vitality how to listen to any other speakings?

i could say ghosts for president or i want to date a ghost  but why?  i already am  they already are 

this notion that we never were eternally and wont be forever more and in between this cold brief hard life we must grasp for all its worth   what sort of mind takes seriously these categories and divisions? things dont begin when theyre created

im not better than the ghost in me  im not even different than it  i am the ghost and the turnings turned long before i turned

these are some methods and melioratings of turning things into ghosts

recorded for those whove been taken out and cut to be in love with night

in the twitchings between minutes and the rubble of hours