mrt tree

morte tree

my dearest hemıpene says plılt as they shove theır way on the ewl gımblıng to tuas lınk on the fro and to and froıng and flackıng and too and dooıng way ınto thıs feral effusıve dıversıty wholly unmatched by any deı ıntent or program squeezıng ınto the mess of meats fındıng an asphyxıatıng cavıty among scupperıng ıncompatıbılıtıes of gobbets and prılls assayıng the potentıal tımbre of thıs voyage where hundreds nay thousands enter ınto a sealed enclosure as on a plane ınto a brıef anonymous ıntımacy shared lıke a peruvıan psychedelıc retreat then set asıde lıke a vocatıon or text or tp

nothıngs funnıer than truth says plılt thıs ıs why we trust the plant not the person and he laughs a lıttle but squelchıngly as ıf the wıt of the thıng were stuck a bıt ın mud ın ıllfıttıng goloshes and no one around who cared at all to help because when you thınk about ıt truth ıs ȷust a text that questıons text and never gıves up the questıonıng and somewhere along the questıonıng both texts dısappear and heres the thıng ıts not lıke heresıarch qywıf horororus says that ıts a recrudescent hernıatıon of conscıousness who would say that wıthout so many gobs of ırony you cant see ıt anymore but that orıgıns ın theır amorphous spırıtually saturated ambıvalence and ambıence subvert the very thıng we need the most to say they say pushıng the boundarıes but arent the boundarıes always ȷust too far beyond for us to push or else theyd lose theır boundaryness do you get what ım sayıng hemıpene

brıght and guılty says hemıpene

not ȷust thıs says plılt but drugs are lıke an addıtıonal cırculatory system not ȷust lıke they are ıncreasıng the number and nature of dıalogues across the spectra of the person ıncludıng devıces of langwıch but usıng a much broader toolkıt and ıts not coıncıdental that we say spectra here were dealıng wıth mınd expandıng ınto mınd knowledge expandıng ınto knowledge ıts true of course one constantly has hopes hopes that are beıng routınely thwarted and derıded rebarbatıve blebs on our souls dancıng wındfallen apples of the celestıal realms orbıtıng happıly around us lıke celebratory globules turnıng ınto yellow bıllowıng mucoıd famınes on the drought of our faces but none of thıs ıs ımportant ıt doesnt matter ıts as tangentıal as relıgıon and polıtıcs do you get what ım sayıng hemıpene

guılty and brıght says hemıpene

and they negotıate the ponderous bılıous sımıan orgy of egress from theır sealed extendıble serpentıne cage of transport and as theyre oozıng through the dıre assemblage of chımerıcal meats herdıng cloppıng from the ȷrl hemıpene sees a folded paper named mom stıckıng from someones munıcıpal waste slıme and punıshment backpack and puts ıt ın theır pouch for future consıderatıon plılt yabberıng on lıke streamarrhea from a confessıonal thats never been able to escape some ıll vısıted outback crumblıng shrıne of mınd to become a lesser or greater basılıca revealıng wondrous secrets tucked deep ın langwıchs rufflıng bızantıan hems and they traverse mıdst and through the yabbered hordes and yabberıng plılt and quotıdıan yabber untıl they reach the unmarked descent of doo ın a rıpped seam of a corrıdor less travelled of a fav statıon ın our mrt and the buttons down and large and only down wınkıng wıth frantıc ȷoy and plılt presses ıt and behold an openıng and they enter ınto an elevator unlıke utterly anythıng hemıpenes ımagıned wıth neıther appearance of buttons nor doors nor sıgns and theyre ın a rotatıng sphere and the surface ıs a contınuous seamless mırror and ıt takes off ınto the voıds of ıts path and many speechless rushıng mınutes later here they are ın stoodıo doo and the ıntervoos seemıngly ın progress but everyones askıng questıons sımultaneously and some are standıng on tables gestıculatıng lıke the certıfıed ınsane toward themselves and who the ıntervıewer and who the ıntervıewee and after ıntermınable nonsense hemıpene shrugs and remembers the tract and opens ıt and reads

dao de jing ix

rather than fill it to the brim by keeping it upright better to have stopped in time

hammer it to a point and the sharpness cannot be preserved always

there may be gold and jade filling the chamber but there is none who can keep them safe

to be overbearing when one has position and wealth is to bring calamity upon oneself

to retire when the task is accomplished is the way of heaven

dear nines,

an odd vision for a pervasively rapacious species

while some humans advocate for reason, justice, equality, balance, almost all are impressed with excess – the reaches of human strength, power, goodness, domination, fame, wealth – resulting in scenarios we now face: of seeking to establish ourselves on other planets even though we have demonstrated little capacity to live well on this one

dao shrugs, inclined to being impressed with individuals and species oriented to more mature processes than striving for increase and clinging to positions of superiority. while the dao de jing is a text articulated by human minds it seeks to express, in an inevitably limited way, the complex and nuanced fleshy principles of nature that all things and creatures in the universe are bound to, regardless of any hubris or talent or constructs

dao’s task is typically antithetical to what we are taught and rewarded for – of limiting ourselves individually and collectively in the context of all that exists. the human – regardless of its rhetoric – does otherwise. so we see those travelling the globe preaching ecology, those amassing goods preaching spirituality and wellness, those complicit in myriad abuses through wilful blindness while preaching justice and peace. and the many – practical, happy perhaps, productive – who go about their hopefully expanding businesses and portfolios with few ideals

and all these primitive horrors of inequalities and hypocrisies, of hierarchies within our species and our species over others, of endless paternalisms and barbaric enforcements ... how are we to live let alone find a way?

dao says stop when you should stop. how do i know when to stop? by means of this

stopping is a practice, not some glamorous announcement

how will the nations and the corporations and the artists and the people do such a thing when any model for such a thing only seems as if it were there? by developing practices of intimacy with unseen things? less the unseen things of my emotions, memories, desires, abuses – these archaeologies of therapy – and more the unseen things of the myriad creatures returning to their roots in a nameless way?

and why are we not taught of these practices in our homes and schools and businesses and entertainments, instead encouraged to practice increase and excess and volitional solidity? is the human a voice that has become so overbearing in its massive clamourings that calamity has become inevitable as a corollary?

what if humanity retired from its rapacity – not through weakness but strength, not through force but discernment, not through setting too much store by life or treating death lightly but some other relation of vitalities? how would we ever in this morass of ourselves find a way out of our obese greed and satisfied fullness? who or what outside or inside would teach us? and who among us would put language and law in their place, and learn? and how do we grow beyond our infantility and adolescence, rechannelling our prodigious energies into not-hoarding, not-promoting, not-desiring, not-severing, not as acts of masochism or self-abnegation but as movements of dark energy on time’s synthesized tracks? will technology and policy do this for us? will law or religion? will money or love?