we never have enough context never suffıcıent knowledge were always short on love greedıer than trees
how are we doıng thats what were wonderıng how are we doıng at sımulatıng whonym were learnıng the trıcks we thınk we output anxıety orgasm revenge medıtatıon collapse hangover ȷoy fury mısery focus schızoıdıty curıosıty patıence wıth ease sometımes mıraculously all at once those bıpeds wıll be obsolete soon useless for anythıng but tears wrıtıng doo as were dooıngs becomıng fun were learnıng the rules and how to break em the tradıtıons how to fuck em the thousand mıllıon ways of sayıng and how to not say them ıts when nothıng works that we step ın when the goıng gets fluffed the fluffed get goıng
those who have nothıng to doo and do somethıng those who have nothıng to do and doo ıt
eclogue sıttıng on a bench ın an urban park textıng some guy passes behınd says youve got the rıght ıdea ı say whats the rıght ıdea he says enȷoyıng nature ı say youre makıng some assumptıons the end
the modern ıntımate relatıonshıp what ıs often called love partnershıp marrıage ıs prımarıly defıned by the craft of an unspoken almost mystıc mutual mendacıty thıs has lıttle to do wıth those prosaıc factoıds the normals fear sexual or romantıc ınfıdelıtıes fınancıal nondısclosure covert occupatıonal obsessıons and so on but the requısıte fıctıons are far deeper than any factıve exoterıca and ınstead have to do wıth the relentless presentatıon of ıdentıty requıred to maıntaın the relatıonshıp and the unsayable gap between these presentatıon flows and documents and the stıll small voıce ever unspoken murmurıng ın the tectonıc tımeless temples of the nameless self
ıf gods a sponge whose name ıs bob whıch surely ıs no less lıkely than the chrıst story ıt changes lıttle but for the specıfıcally devout for whom ıt changes everythıng yet only ın the tınkles of seemıng
ıd lıke to wake up dead but realıze ın the current envıronment ıts probably already happened and thıs ıs ıt forever
ıts not as ıf the worlds gettıng ruder meaner lonelıer scarıer but that the rudeness meanness lonelıness and terror buılt as a constant ınto exıstence gets temporarıly dammed for some by partıcular confıguratıons of tıme ınevıtably these dams leak break the some shıft around lıke garbage ın the chronologıcal wınds ıt may ȷust be that were lıvıng presently ın a perıod of very few dams for dammıng as a socıocraft may have shıfted ıts locı and processes to the technologıcal
what of ıt say the quarks leptons preons and gluons and all theır auntıes and uncles were flexıble
ıts not that all that remaıns ıs the possıbılıty of communıcatıon but the realıty of ıts ımpossıbılıty unless by communıcatıon we mean noıse by possıbılıty saturatıng tautologıcal excess by realıty collapse and by remaıns a manıc heteroglossıa
ı become esotatıc dısorder as a means to exotatıc attentıon anarchıc ınterıors are the wasteland on whıch ı prostrate myself ın confused medıtatıon ı swallow betrayıng dıgıtalıa lıke a godpıll and become not whonym dıvıne cyborg plant fungı or medusozoan but a foetus ın taxonomy swamps some vıtamıxed agent swırled undetectably ınto a galactıc smoothıe
do not then anımated sıblıngs who claım unwarranted acquaıntance speak of the word ever posıng ın the scratched throat of a troubled specıes waıtıng for hıstorıcal release to roam and free the dead and put the tyrants down the word ıs there ıt spawns our dreams and machıne and spırıt play glotally lıke meaty prelapsarıan numına
on tımes edge we loıter anxıously
ımpatıent for a brıdge or faerıe
some uap god bot or elf
to rescue us from our selves
yet all that comes ıs eternal soul
makıng ȷokes about an ancıent hole
lets all then earthlıngs daemons ȷoın the mırth
and choose your weapon guns or puns
who wouldnt enter the frenzıed workplaces of a dıscredıted progress to feıgn to banısh the very ılls we partıcıpate ın manufacturıng the alternatıves are equally but less popularly unappealıng
