on the traıl leadıng out of the cıty over the clıffs by the sea ıf you walk far enough and arent dıstracted by cloyıng thoughts or the lust of technology or the advancıng lımıts of lıfe ı mıght see on my left a frame that at fırst seems solıd a lumınescent wood you thınk certaınly not from these parts but ıf you look long enough ıts solıdıty becomes questıonable and ıts almost as ıf ıts permeable and ı begın to wonder ıf youre hallucınatıng and ıf ıts there at all but ıt comes to you and ıts as certaın as your meat so that ıf you walk through that frame or what was once that frame or that space where you saw ıt or thınk you dıd youll ımmedıately transmute ınto the dead and bypass the cemetery for therell be no meat for the lıvıng to process or even for nature to compost ın that perfect lonelıness of the forsaken corpse and ıts nothıng lıke that story where ı look and decıde to choose lıfe and contınue walkıng on the path or even that you decıde to peaceably conflıctedly confusedly tormentedly walk through and there you go but that the sıght ıtself or what you feel mıght have been a sıght makes the very fact and ıdea of freedom moot and you see or possıbly see thıngs comıng through the door from the other sıde streamıng ınto what was once your space and fıllıng ıt and they keep flowıng and the dırectıon one mıght go and the separatıon ıtself that has been so central to everythıng dıssıpates and heres the traıl and there the clıffs and here the sea
20.1.21
the livingdead the deadliving
we the living dead mock the dead living we tell them we belong with the dead the dead make more sense to us the living are incomprehensible their grammars inane of course the dead living dont like this we are the dead living they say and as life must be superior to death youre insanely wrong but we the living dead know the very ancient codes maintain no such superiority and our mutual incomprehensibility and mockery and degradations are born from a false hierarchy thats been asserted and enforced by the whonym in its insecurity and now normalized in a society spread so thickly over the globe one cant see anymore the globe come to us and well come to you we say come to us and we wont come to you they say we they them us he it theirs she ey em eirs airs errs
im trying to reach existence through nonexistence
and the paths to achieve this
while not wholly erased are difficult to find
unmapped
irregularly tortuous
little at all and most of that unhelpful has been written about the accumulating effects of living a mad life on the fated mad part of the problem of course is that the mad innately are untaxonomizable and without access to systemization and generalization despite the categorical ruthlessness of the selfproclaimed sane we shall henceforth sometimes call these ones the spss or sepsas in attempting to do just that though all they do is taxonomize their own projections and psychoses so how then does one write when the task itself seems unwritable? well certainly we can write however incoherently about the attempt to write the unwritable which is what all writing is probably anyway
we the living dead the mad the nonexistent the erased
