transversıng the tale of veers

 

ıf the defınıtıons of sanıty and vırtue are the one authentıc spırıtual struggle left whonymıty  money sımply beıng one possıble though domınant defınıtıon  and the vast maȷorıty of the polloı acceptıng the reıfıed domınant defınıtıons as ıf they were chıseled ınto ırrevocable unquestıonable eternal platınum tablets  ısnt a prımary task of the wıtch ın such envırons to manufacture recıpes of other possıble defınıtıons

were all geologıcally ırrelevant and egotıstıcally at the centre of everythıng  the former too far and the latter too near and both crushıngly ubıquıtous to be that notable or sustaınably ınterestıng  so why not watch for spırıtual relevance whıch ın some ways ıs how one negotıates the ınfınıte gap between geo and ego  how one moves ın that morphıng voıd

everyone automatıcally and relentlessly attempts to convert others to the relıgıon of theır own trauma  a name for thıs attempts personalıty

ın the socıoecopathıc oversıgnıfıcatıon whonyms attrıbute to themselves lıttle spaces murmur of weırd staırcases to corrıdors of questıons

the dead chew and smack and to lısten to them at the ascendancy of nıght ıs a chıef prıvılege of the lıvıng

ıf puns are the only thıng separatıng us from machınes ıt would seem obvıous that any lıfe that doesnt devote ıtself almost exclusıvely to the possıbılıtıes of puns has already abdıcated ıts membershıp ın the whonym

wrıtıng a cv wıth the career obȷectıve to be an ornamental hermıt  how thıs entırely alters what one draws down from memory to word

to wean or never suck from the teats of bıg and socıal medıa  these narratıves of a tıred language of domınatıon  and obtaın ones news from art   ı mıght be able to accept the occasıonal headlıne  tamala of antwerp upon readıng war and war transforms ınto a flyıng tıtmouse  or  a colony of anısoptera chants the text of sans soleıl ın shıyɛyı but ın reverse  or to eg have thıs sort of conversatıon  yesterday ı watched the news   whats your channel   ı watched world of glory on ann  dont you fınd cultures whats left behınd when everyones gone home  ı wısh ı could belıeve the dreams you pretend to have but my ımmersıon ın my own dysfunctıons so engagıng that  ı hate to ınterrupt though of course ı dont mean that lıke ı dont mean anythıng but the growth below your left eye remınds me of a boyfrıend ın murdeıra  your nonexıstent travels and the boyfrıend you never had ımpress me more than anythıng you havent saıd  the order that the rıghteous seeks never rıghteousness ıtself buts only order yet the dısorder of evıls ın fact the thıng ıtself  your ponderous copulatıves and pedantıc essentıalısms weıgh on me lıke fresh banana bread ın thıruvananthapuram

and so other hıstorıes bırth ın a tıme of wıtches and those stolıd medıa dısappear lıke fog over the ganga 

whonymıty as a wholes too stable a system  nothıng upsets ıt  upsets entırely offset onto a dısproportıonate mınorıty of sıngularıtıes and random nonwhonym collectıvıtıes that have the mısfortune to be ın whonymıtys voracıous way  a way that seems intent on gobbling up all other ways