even among intelligent whonyms one doesnt converse about anything important anymore if you try to talk about anything important whoever youre talking with quickly changes the conversation to sports or politics or gossip or the weather some variation of da nooz but everyones interiority has to stay locked up and the jailors society for the soul or what used to be called the soul like what used to be called reality is too much for the people to bearbare so they can only talk about the denials of the soul these effects of its repression as it seeps ineluctably through thick old walls and forms the artifacts and procedures were forced to live within though they live in purer and more potent form within us and all our training and educations oriented toward learning how to converse about the repressions and make more repressions and have no idea how to relate to the forms of vital seething of course you can pay 150 an hour for a shrink you can whore it up like that and call it wellness a little voyeured psychic orgasm in a strangers office you can persist in talking with the whonyms after they try to shut you up and be deemed mad pretty quickly you can go nuts and get locked up or drugged you can suicide that relief you can carry on imaginary conversations more real than those other ones people call real or more real with the few others whove managed to survive for a bit and write about this condition and whose words have survived and whose words youve found in the vast library of dumpster of book and write some of these conversations down which are typically ignored or if theyre not disdained and all this it takes you a while to learn
take eg a magazine called frigid in which some idiot calling itself weal clown disdains h michaux who experiments his entire life with sniffing languages in words and paint for the universes of his interiority does mishoh succeed? thats not a question of the interior thats a question of your world and all clown who naturallys some young white prick does of course is call mish oh a sadly disabled old man but even the most incoherent babbling of the one who explores the interior smells is far more beautiful than the most coherent product of your chiseled enforced exterior sterile dumps
infinitys a construct of mind and as mind exists and infinity exists in it so infinity exists and i orient myself toward these infinities and write about them sadoo is this orientation
ı look in the mirror and know ım nuts ı know ım nuts and that you havent caught ı yet ım pleased by these two facts two of the few facts ı think about that are worthy of meditation its never been a question for ı not to be nuts to believe in soul and to be obsessed with thinking and talking about soul is to be nuts sadoos my nuts
