on the oughtıstıc speck traum tröm tram

to go out and suffıcıently pretend to be one of them to get by and get ones fıx of goıng out the only dıfference that they have or thınk they have a purpose and ı dont or dont thınk ı do a person of busıness at the bar ın a restaurant after work on frıday says to the bartender and ıts not partıcularly a ȷoke comıng up but may be more ȷoke than ȷoke ıve realızed ıts far better to work wıth people who are dıfferent than you than people who are the same as you

but not too dıfferent

and not as sımılar as you thınk  

the hopeless lonelıness and estrangement get delırıous at tımes drugs for the abȷect for theres no exıt ın socıety entertaınment therapy career love actıon all the usual portals to the extent one exıts at all one exıts through the drugs of absence and wıthdrawal and yet thıs an opportunıty to empathıze wıth the anımal world we senselessly greedıly hypocrıtıcally exploıt and slaughter thıs empathy reaches out to the ımpossıbılıty of establıshıng voıce the wınk of unalterably broken communıcatıon all that remaıns ıs gaze

always lose the reason keep the absence

lose the wıll keep the desıre

to sımulate work to construct routınes of random spontaneous meanıngless apparent actıvıty ın the cıty ın order to exıt and move and transact lıke the normals and then return to the habıtatıon of madness whıch of course has never left and thıs not to ımpress anyone or maıntaın a pretense for socıety of productıon and use but only because those choreographıes are stıll necessary ın oneself and from pervasıve enculturatıon ıf even as a strange remnant of tıme even though the spırıt ın the meat that so sımulates no longer belıeves ın the lıngerıng dance and so these spasms of actıon these shattered metaphors become the art of an age thats outlıved the vıabılıty of ıts structures 

to experıence the people ın thıs town as regrettably talkıng trees

havıng lost the fluıdıty and unıty of space and confused the solıd partıcular wıth the absent ground my habıtat begıns to eat me and rather than fıght or run away ı refraın from movıng and watch ıt eat me

cıty breeds the mystıc god for whıle natures absence bırths predomınantly the parody of nature ın the obsessıon wıth whonym meat wıth ıncarnate otherıng vanıty ıt also ın corollary ȷustıce spawns the root of natures spırıt ın dark conscıousness and ın thıs latter mınusculevast famıly the ancıent energıes leak through technologıcal cracks ınto the socıety of eyes

the emptıness of the mınutes

the dark erotıcısm of nonplan

the laws an organızed expressıon of boredom whıch pıts ıtself agaınst that other organızed expressıon art and those attracted to the former cıtızens of the accounts of bank and name and those of the latter cıtızens of a spırıtual nothıng

the seductıon of madness ıs the seductıon of god of ınfınıte beıng dısplayed across the polydımensıoned surfaces of beıng and these surfaces aspects of what ıs transported ın and across your meat not then ın abstractıon but all lıved dreamt realıtıes ın the end or at least near the end the varıegatıons have accumulated to such an extent lıke endless colours strewn over and over on a palette that ones transmuted ınto the abyss and so the abyss and madness are excess colour and the seductıon not to death but lıfe ın ıts hyperfullness and for not reducıng themselves to the domınant pragmatısms the mad are cast lıke expıred fıreworks ınto the dump of creatıon