i understand now the mumbling woman with the shopping cart and many coats in the parking lot with her pigeon friends and the wind maybe that i glanced at from the tram nonchalantly with no explicit mockery and a whack of assumptions perhaps i understand now the man on the parkbench staring at nothing watching death pass him by or life hard to tell which is which when youre on the bench i now understand though im unsure even since ive crossed the border and am a person now of coats and benches i dont think i much understand understanding and the presents like an unopenable gift sitting there under the dying tree with times other concealments now i stand or sit or lie it doesnt really matter and watch the people who glance and somewhere in their actiony businesses are infinities of little assumptions which might be right who knows someofthem its not that all i do is watch and mumble and put on coats and take them off its not as if im not actiony i slice mushrooms too and shit and close the curtains its not as if im not comprised of a yottagoogolzillion flighty assumptions even my perhapsing and maybeing and whoknowsing my doubt which i proudly fly as some freedom is just another ponderosity and if crossing as that hiemal netminder says has made all the difference or indifference whoknows its a difference or indifference of just this paragraph or also or not all the glancings and watchings and puttingons and takingoffs and notunwrappings and notknowings and understandings as brief as pigeons
the accumulation of selves little different than the shedding of selves for each sheddings an accumulating transmogrifies the self into these accumulations of indistinguishabilities and so i become a shadow of weights a wraith of what im not an apophatic multiplication a wealth of negations and how do i manage these assets but through some anarchy of words
after my carefully curated vinyl collection was accidentally thrown out by sloppy Messy Strapaleaze & fiends ive taken after a vacation in prolonged grief disorder it up to begin building something vaguely worthy again two thousand dollars and heaps of frustration confusion anger time into the task with all the horror religiosity vinyls now packaged in almost incapacitating me playing the things considering my increased knowledge of what hypocrisies and virtued meanness distort the grooved radicality i receive the idea from the cryptobank of ideas to take this vinyl project go nuts on it order endlessly from discogs rare first pressings from tehran and atlantis go bankrupt build up a huge and excellent collection then never listen to it be so consumed by its hip jacketed presence and the horror of procuring its presence and the loss and stupidity and hate that precipitated it that its factive physicality is sufficient and its sonic manifestation its ostensible purpose becomes not just redundant but offensive go further destroy destroy it all burn the records on a night of witches by titty witty destruction redux but one that i have built in order to destroy i this singular arching architect of death that we somehow impossibly live within thisthat act of religious futility a consummation and finality of unspent beauty
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