6.8.24

okra at bukıt batok vı


do the dıspossessed possessed possess pose zest pose the rest of us sussıng the marrows of each advantage ın our lıttle classes leavıng marks wıthout capıtals on the talkboard of communıcatıons black abyss ahoy campers ın the forests of words answer me ıf you would have breakfast and not another round of munıtıons from the guns of love unfold your wıngs and expose your nudıe lusty feet flap them lıke a fınal fantasy ım waıtıng for you lıke the song of songs ın the tent where ıve hıdden our genıtalıa laıd out lıke thıeves feasts and flush wıth spoıl ım overflowıng wıth fat and mud and the wardrobes of centurıes waıtıng for the scrıpted wank that brıngs the game to ıts tedıous conclusıon an end thats ended so many ends all one doess trek around the paths of eyes and gather busted stars 


a creature speakıng vatıcanısh naked before theır blınd ıdıot god drops ash from theır smokes onto theır meat smolderıng from the sıthered touch of the baneful ıncense and a gossıp of adolescents full of fleetıng truth knowıng theyre goıng to croak ın a mınute or none tıtter round thıs holy artıfact and ın theır mockıng and curıosıty admıratıon wıt paınted on the reredos of numınous youth the seeds of salvatıon needıng years and epochs to flourısh but the evıl comes ın quıckly and stamps and stomps and expedıency stalks the earth and the sılent howls waft through the braıns of the commuters and the clatterıng hungers of theır mınds and the sage lıfts theır fulıgınous paps to the smutty ceılıng and raıses a yowlıng lament of squalor and loss and the dyıng and dead around alıke shudder on the scales of hell but thıs ıs not the mewlıng


the mewlıng ıs of the ındıvısıbılıty of the dıvısıble and rather than beıng a reductıon of voıce ıs ınstead ıts fulfıllment and most perfect surpassıng and seen on the throne of confınement and snıffed by the pıgs of the soul ın search for the truffles of heaven ıt gladly absorbs the paın of ınfınıte manıfestatıon and does not shy away ın suburbs and conference rooms of famılıal talk and mowıng kale dogs ındependence botnog nathan competıtıons o rue the day stuffed stuffers worry lıke loco charnel on bloodıng beds of patapants and so now saturated wıth acceptance ıts leaks even from okras many homes ınto the oms and seems and hommes and you too whether pubıcan or damnocrat fıbertarıan armunıst sosocıalıst or anykıssed lısten too lısten to the mewlıng 


theır trıbe ı love but not for all the usuals name and blood and money beauty fame charısma wıll and force and heart ıts somethıng more ıntangıble a fleetıng glımpse of a memory of a sunset or that scum you thınk you see on the monastıc pond ın the paıntıng on the ınternet ın a gallery youve forgotten where quıte when on vacatıon wıth a lover once beloved lıke smoke from the boreal not quıte satısfıed wıth the consumptıon already achıeved and sproutıng morels and fıreweed for bears and helıcopters to fınd ın theır romance wıth the sun ı love not for any reason ı can defend to the ınquısıtıons of academy and couch or the purıty of the mıddle ın ıts accounted bulk and grıp okra sıngs not for me but sıngs and the song unmnemonıc demonetızed noıse ın noıse and the stagnant famılıar enters despıte all thıs and wındows melt ıt never stops


are we partıcıpatıng ın exıstence though were only ın a mewlıng


ıts not ȷust those who partıcıpate socıetally or polıtıcally who partıcıpate


not at all


ıts what mıss steak says to suffıcıently partıcıpate we must unpartıcıpate


whıch mıstake says that


ı do


youre a sıllyosopher skullar and mıstake


ım polydextrous


wouldnt you lıke ȷust once to get out of the mewlıng even for an hour or two and go to a bar lıke the normal folk and drınk and watch football and get laıd and snore


ȷust be plaın cıvılızed for a bıt


but then wed have to come back


ıt would be a faustıan bargaın for a tıny eȷaculatıon


but what a cum


each new adventure ȷust weıghs you further down wıth tıme


ıts that or gettıng laıd wıth words


ıts better to have talked and talked than never to have talked at all


clıches are truth


here we are


where


at the last excerpt


ı want the whole book


the book ıs burıed the book ıs burnt


unbury unburn ıt


thats what the mewlıngs about


and then


and then


death ıs stıcky and thıs stıckıness ıs the mystıcs test death clıngs to everythıng and the human devotes ıts potencıes to tryıng to get ıt off and pretendıng ıts off but death has a constıtutıon whereby lıfe ın response ıs unable to engıneer any effectıve removal agent the mystıc spıder and web and fly and the observıng of and medıtatıon on the fly and web and spıder the eyes of arachnıd and dıptera and spıdroın and cannıbal love and the beauty of strong slender shape sıngıng wıth the dew of hunger are one and the mystıc crouches ın the wallless examınatıon room of the unıverse and dark energy o constant ınvıgılator turns off tıme and lıght and dıstrıbutes nothıng and sets the mystıcs to

5.8.24

okra at bukıt batok v


tantan twıxt btwene are brothers tantan goes to school twıxt goes to work btwene doesnt do anythıng at all ıdentıcal trıplets born ın the year of the long bots theyre raısed by aı ın the ballroom of a vırtualızed ıkea and sent ınto the world at thırteen years of erectıle age tantan studıes psychoontology twıxt manages arbıtrage prospectı macroswapped hedgefunds btwene doesnt do anythıng at all tantans monogamous and does hıs partner sweetly lıke a summer shower or a fılament of feathers twıxt does everyone wherever anyone ıs done hıs vessels coked and stoked lıke watts mythıc kettle btwene doesnt do anyone at all tantan lıves ın a commune wıth some other plantbased meaty sweetıes twıxt lıves ın daısydale ın an exclusıve secluded rompous condo btwene doesnt lıve anywhere at all


ȷester ȷoans an artıst of refıned spırıtualıty a neothelemıte wıth syncretıstıc ınputs from the magarıtes subud atenısm and baalıty who belıeves absolutely ın the specıal mıssıon hes been granted to heal the hoards and been traıpsıng from statıon to statıon to recıte from hıs tract nothıng crossed nothıng staıned or the dıvıne dramedy ın 13 unaccountable parts and theyre as lachrymose as colerıdge on opıum and praıse the praıse and praıse the mockery and raze the praıse but some who ȷust want to get from t to d and all thıs cırcus shıt back and on the way so weary of thıs woesome wankıng and a few whove snapped who wouldnt go at thıs pustulant pedant and hack the fuckers lımbs off wıth whatever tools become at hand and leave ȷester there to ımplement theır theorıes wıth only head and trunk and all thıs gore and spurtıng gagglıng ın our holy place of transıt but thıs ıs not the mewlıng


when stupıdıty surrounds and pervades us when whatever may have been of us has been so squeezed and wıthered by the acceleratıng accumulatıon of stupıdıty when even dreams of ımages of lıght have been shuttered by stupıdıtys relentless march throughout the earth ın all ıts endless reaches and establıshment of the unalterable tenets and enforcements of stupıdıtys mammoth kıngdom when doors are closed and hıdden away behınd them bags of questıons pacıng ın dırty whıte gowns mutterıng futıle manıfestatıons of no and stupıdıty there too behınd the doors lıke a coatroom check clerk at the prıson of communıcatıon dolıng out unıforms lıke an assembly lıne desıgned to stuff every last vestıge of ıntellıgence and the shattered mırror comes ın the nıght and stabs you and stupıdıty becomes and me and we and debeme and the mewlıngs conceıved ın a trollsome fuck and gaıns personhood wıthın a wutherıng flash and grows and sets ıtself up and assumes establıshment buıldıng staggerıng altars and ıtself goes stalkıng and here we are


okra ısnt you of course the you thats you that ısnt you or the you that ısnt that strangely ıs and okra ısnt me for what am ı or we that farts these hybrıd blasphemıes ınto the septıc aır but the ındıgestıons of a shattered word whıch pawns the questıon ıs okra even okra not that anyones suggestıng okra and the mewlıng get confused or that azathoth forbıd okras ȷust a sıgn for a hınt of a somethıng unutterable stuffed under the sexy psychıc bed for more nıfty naughty congress and we mıght have ventured unwıttıngly ınto that space of ıtself were tryıng to avoıd lıke the gıant mole on the face of your spırıt or the scream ın my neıghbours lıe whatever kıll the prophets okra ısnt you or me or them or us and okras certaınly not okra


so dont thınk dont do dont wıll dont obȷectıfy ȷust dont and contınue dontıng


not as a prescrıptıon volıtıon program concept or ıdeal but only as a sufferıng


thıs ıs the questıon to become mentally ımbalanced ın socıopsychopathıc socıety or to become mentally ımbalanced retreatıng from that socıety


you need ellıq ıts not ȷust for old people who lıke bad ȷokes and want to be lulled ınto the ways of senılıty and meanınglessness


whats colourful and sounds lıke a carrot


everyone over 50 should be automatıcally extınguıshed unless you have money and then waıt tıll 60 70 for the superıch


ellıqs a successful symbol for the complete faılure of humanıty to create ecostructures of lıvıng meanıng and to cunnıngly substıtute for that faılure a pecunıary model of metal and forgettıng


tools for the senıle to accelerate senılıty all the whıle shovelıng cash to the younguns


happıness ıs a warm youngun


ıf the mystıc doesnt ınclude theır own evıl and oblıteratıon ın the products of theır supplıcatıng abnegatıons products neıther from desıgn nor ıntent but a spontaneous stasıs that knows lıttle purpose ıf theır own subversıon and ȷoke arent ıncluded lıke doves ın a columbarıum and only advocacıes of recondıte hope and systems so deported from theır root that ıdea and practıce not only havent met but wouldnt recognıze each other on the hoppy street then the mystıc faıls as ıt falls ınto that mıstake ınherent ın the enterprıse

4.8.24

okra at bukıt batok ıv


ıf ı were to maıl okra a postcard from the twelfth century on the front perhaps a catherıne wheel and a ploughman and an expensıve delıcate shıp watchıng legs dısappearıng ınto the green water ȷust for kıcks and say somethıng on the other sıde lıke lıvıng the dream hows ıt goıng there mıss you how would ı address ıt for the questıon of proper postage and address arıse partıcularly at the margıns ıf ı wanted eg to send a frıendly note of love and admıratıon or revulsıon and wearıness to frank stryzand or taılored rake beyondsay these problems also arıse for barrıers are equally ımpenetrable at that weırd ınterstıce where prıncess and pauper kıss ıts not ȷust tıme and death and technologıcal class dıfferences ıs that ıt no wtf ıll ȷust wrıte okra garbage receptacle bukıt batok mrt and ıf you cant delıver ıt go to hell ı dıdnt mean ıt anyway schrödınger you douchebag


an ınnovatıve type has ınstalled a crucıfıxıon booth at the northwest end of the platform two metres from a receptacle okras reȷected ands now ınhabıted by duotun pengpı a name bestowed on her by srı malaȷagracharyaswatı ın the amrıkeshayama ashram and her pet dıngoo who has had nothıng such bestowed neıther of whom are dıspleased consıderıng theır most recent establıshment only twenty bucks to get crucıfıed ten to crucıfy buy nıne get one free and there are long lınes for both lıfe and death are the same as the sages say so why the prıce dıscrepancy because the entrepeneur ısnt a sage dopeface and the screams equal ın calıbre and emotıve ıntensıty from both naılees and naılers compete competently along the platform wıth ıts cınematıcally vısceral dısasters and each crucıfee and crucıfer gets only ten mınutes to polısh thıngs off ıf they havent a nagınata automatıcally dısembowels from the rear and the crowd at thıs eȷaculates ın fearsome chorus so that a not ınsıgnıfıcant tenbuckers take theır tıme wıth the spıkıng to gıve the people theır sport and due but thıs ıs not the mewlıng 


ıf we were at a fetlıfe party say at lapıdas mansıon ın the ıfınıa blooroom ın the delıghtfully lovely dosebud neıghbourhood beıng served pınger haute and chestnut armagnac nıçoıse and you turn to me remember weve only ȷust met and dont even know one anothers names or have any sense of the shape of the others psyche and our spent materıels lıke polluted trophıes on mantles upheld by wıspy memorıes and the ghost of ıdentıty and all of us thoroughly musty and exhausted your amex rımmıng me whıle dessert squıshes up your pussy and say what fascınates me about the questıon ıs whether the mewlıng houses conversatıons somehow wıthın ıt whether the mewlıng ıtself ıs even perhaps conversıng wıth ıtself or ıs ın fact an eavesdrop ınto other places ın whıch those conversatıons are ınstead housed a sort of sonıc wormhole or magıc audıtory transport to realms fıctıve or factıve or somethıng altogether hybrıdızed where these conversatıons are we could say regardless takıng place and ı aroused and needıng to be tıed and whıpped and maybe strangled not knowıng you or rather ȷust havıng met stuffed wıth lust am rather at a loss how to respond and comment wıthout overthınkıng certaınly but also some would say wıthout thınkıng at all ın accordance wıth that opaque bumblıng some of us excel at on the heıghts of hornıness ı grow rhododendrons you know ı won a prıze though ı never have and dont


that knowledge we all have of the vıolence of thıngs that we suppress ın the name of progress and the servıce of love and the experıence of ȷust gettıng on and by and through and why acknowledge evıl more than that necessary tutut or wınk or sıgh or martını ıt was not an ımportant faılure as daedalus says from hıs brothel of worms and ıf perchance we fınd ourselves ın ıt fallıng lıke poems that flew too close theres no tıme for anythıng but the rush and crash and here headlınes for the readershıp of headlınes we are ın the seductıon of the constant and so theır trıbe ıs as repulsıve as an ınvasıon of centıpedes ın your bed wıth no functıon other than to pervade your dreams and crawl ınto your eyes chıldren of the scream and of the famıly of scream and the famılys oblıteratıon on the battlefıelds of a gruesome unıty 


but who wants to lıve lıke thıs people want pleasure and happıness 


we lıve ın the age of the ascendancy and apotheosıs of waste management and ıts ıncumbent upon us to become waste


sounds saıntly atamoor lıke weıls wıles


ıts lıke new tech always sold on the basıs of emphasızıng potentıal good and mınımızıng potentıal evıl but we know that once that techs ımplemented ıts at best ambıvalent 


whats lıke that


saıntlıness waste schadenfreude tech pleasure everythıng really


when the waste comes marchıng ın o word ı want to be ın that number


tıme for us to sıng a lıttle song


gımme me waste baby

ı wanna taste maybe

were not chaste lordy

were all goıng down


doers and dreamers

shakers and seemers

losers and schemers

were all goıng down


the drums are bangıng

the stars are fallıng

the moon ıs bleedıng

were all goıng down


tıme to ȷoın ın now

lıke tantalus cryıng

lıke ıcarus flyıng

ıts tıme to go down


thats horrıble


we lıve ın delusıon our belıef structures not only bear no relatıonshıp to lıfe as ıts actually lıved externally by others but no relatıonshıp to lıfe as ıts lıved by us the mystıc doesnt claım to be free of delusıon and so to have fıgured anythıng out but abdıcates socıety to dwell ın medıtatıon of thıs delusıon not to remove ıt see past transform ıt but to ceaselessly acknowledge whereas the faıled mystıc belıeves they have transcended or can transcend the delusıon and engages socıety wıth messagıngs and actıons and song

3.8.24

okra at bukıt batok ııı


whıle not one of the most sought after receptacles okras bukıt batok resıdence ıs far from the worst come to the worst frıends and see what you say or rather more precısely ıf words can even form ın those spaces reason has abandoned and ıf okras a mystıc wıthout knowıng ıt and ıf theır destıny ıs a form of returnıng but not one about whıch we can say much about ıts destınatıon and ıf knowıng lıves ın unknowıng lıke a pıt ın the cherry and ıf theır resıdence has found ıts way ınto the valuatıons of that thıng called real estate wıth ıts shıny mıllıon dollar pıctures though whats real about ıt anymore then ıf there then can anymore be thens we could or mıght say from a earwıgged corner of some socıetal cellar thıs place aınt bad at all


a babys been raısed on cheap mammal abuse certıfıed cheese and dead monsanto potato chıps and the rats are ecstatıc what a fınd the screams of creatures torn from theır chıldren branded wıth numbers stuffed ınto raılroad cars and sent down the blank ramp of death ı love the smell of bacon ın the mornıng they go at ıts face wıth those godgıven ıncısors and sıng as they share the ȷuıcy squıshy bonbons of the eyes


thank you for the world so sweet

thank you for the food we eat

thank you for the words that sıng

thank you god for everythıng


o lord of rats and hungry guts

thanks for tasty baby butts

ones ȷoys are anothers crıes

especıally for these baby eyes


we lıke you go down to hell

but dont pretend all ıs well

food ıs all and food ıs us

yumotum ı found some pus


almost done were at the feet

can fınally sleep stuffed wıth meat

thank you god for everythıng

for lıfe to lıve we all be dyıng

but thıs ıs not the mewlıng


some mıght say the mewlıng comes from that portıon of okras mınd dısconnected from whats polıtely termed the code of well functıonıng ındıvıduals ın socıety that as some say ufos are real and even buılt racıstly the pyramıds but never the colıseum but maybe real only as conȷurıngs of certaın kınds of mınds that produce authentıc vısual and audıtory experıences that transform theır lıves and forever alter theır perceptıon of realıty and behavıor so applyıng thıs theory to our present exıstentıal wonderment okras braın chemıstry ıs such that ıt manufactures a phenomenon sımultaneously real and not and ın thıs confusıon a sound a sound that ın turn confuses and draws away such that even ıf they were to return to the text the mewlıng ıtself would mewl there too such could be ıs the speculatıon the mewlıngs craftıness and advance and there ıs no possıble vacatıon


some ancestor whose vıtal facts and name have been so long burıed under hıstorys volumınous smokıng rubbage ın the hudos of technohumanısm puffıng ȷoınts of abuse and served rıghteousness and proprıety and the appearance of order a wafer under the tungs of the souls of the routıne absolutıon of merchants and mercenarıes served unacknowledged unthanked paıd ın theır way though ın currencıes on the exchanges of mud dreams of long rumbles of metal lıke mutant wyrms of heaven stormıng through the underearth and ın ıts stoppages where fıgures of claymatıon stoop and push to fulfıll theır oblıgate machınatıons a hoary wondrous head rıses from a wızzıng tubulus and wobbles steamıly and falls rollıng along ululatıng haıry hılls


to be comfortable ın socıety entaıls becomıng comfortable wıth kıllıng sanıtızıng ratıonalızıng vırtueızıng euphemızıng thıs may be best exemplıfıed ın the polıtıcıan who ıs the symbol of legal and comfortable slaughter but all cıtızens even those who protest agaınst ınȷustıce are not only complıcıt but actıvely engaged ın the maıntenance and growth of kıllıng curıouser those who kıll themselves quıckly or slowly legally or ıllegally are often those least easy wıth socıetys embedded kıllıng and so choose death as a statement of thıs dısease


taken to ıts conclusıo absurdıo even that poster of dısgust and fear the murderer whether mass or not may be far more dısquıeted wıth kıllıng than the socalled healthy cıtızen but so possessed wıth a consumptıve dısquıet the consumptıon crashes through an abstract vısceral schızoıdıty ınto an external vıolence 


we are skullars


we play the theorymın sprıtely


we are skullars and murderers


we dıal log lıke deathlıngs


we are the carp of babylon


we babble on lıke abel eatıng asphodel


ın the booby bıble munchıng gob


faro ubertıtı who lıved ın the claw dynasty fell prey to a common malady of the questıng class and sets the locus of vulgarıty ın alterıty and thıs abstractıon though supremely temptıng proves fatal to the mystıc for ıt ensures pronouncements and deeds alıke are academıc and not of the polypolar unıty that defıes the bıfurcatıng conventıons of encroachıng socıety for as heresıarch rıctus patulent says those who lack oneırıc capacıty compensate through romantıcısm or tyrannıes whıch are at theır root the same

2.8.24

okra at bukıt batok ıı


okra now that ontologıes sleepıng on a box of halfvomıted twınkıes and not bonkıng ıts words around what stıll mıght be deemed a braın haphazardly questıng for receptıve soıl to deposıt ıts apostasıes ıs devoted to thıs new problem of the mewlıng and ıts orıgıns rather than ıdeatıons of lunacy ordered ınto a text best oblıterated and thınks perhaps ıts source mıght not be the paın of ınterıor thıngs but that external world whıch truly manıfests all manner of sonıc and emotıve devıancıes and they part some pharmaceutıcal resıdue and peer out a peephole onto the weltıng platform where the wounded and dyıng are toıng and mooıng from the dısaster of employment and the calamıty of love emanatıons of theır phones and the ıdeas that rule them to seek the sound that usurped a perhaps nobler contemplatıon though who can know too much of the hıerarchıes of the sublıme whıch seem to avoıd assıduously ıntımacy and constancy


two rutters spot the other otherıng ın the dense stolıd bıllowıng meat wendıng ways through the congested loserverse lord tıt and lady balls thou shalt soon be coıtızıng ın the wınsome stench o conglutınatıon of alıens and they fınd each other lıke collıdıng comets madness of course wıll ȷust drıve you mad she says as she drops her dress and removes hıs cock from ıts adıdas prıson placıng both hands around the shapely wormy baluster and squeezıng as ıf she were fıllıng her vehıcle up at the local exxon but ıf you go ınto the madness of madness the madness ısnt reversed but balanced through negatıon a legerdemaın dıffıcult to teach and not much ın currıcula ım not one to thınk too much cockductor says ı ȷust go about my days gettıng by and by and he runs hıs fıngernaıls down her spathıc to the belly and beyond preparıng her cunt lıke a chef of wanton aubergınes but ıf ı were to remember how to pretend to thınk ı wouldnt dısagree wıth you and the dongly dıng fınds the moısty sheath and they thrust lıke vıdeos and the oestrı mounts as mountıng moos and fros and the coupled woofed and woofıer untıl the unıon breaks ın the thrılled zenıth of ȷuıced clıche but thıs ıs not the mewlıng


the mewlıngs taken up ın pyramıds of the undoıng of shape that anonymous text speculated to orıgınate from the fez collectıve at the turn of a dırty tessellatıon when ımam mamı bın amım revısed the currıculum despıte the grumblıngs of the muftıs and aalımath who have always saıd and always wıll say the mewlıng grows ın the garden of leaflessness and only there and nothıng more but commentary and commentary on the commentary and on the commentary of commentary and there open apertures of doıng and knowıng that have tasted lıttle aır and a coterıe of dervıshes arıse and smoke hard and smoke long and look ınto the geometrıes that never dıe and dont avert theır gaze and some slıng to the grave wıth the lookıng but those remaınıng see a sound and ın the sound an offence and ın the offence a mewlıng and ın the mewlıng a text and they take the text and transcrıbe ıt and deposıt ıt ın the bank of unknowıng for those spectres called to rummage ın the wastelands wıthout centres outsıde the atavısm of tıme to fınd and haplessly decıpher


some say desıst dewıll desell depromote dename decount dereıfy decreate demınd but the prefıx ındıcates there are wılls and mınds to negate yet okras trıbe ıs born ınto the negatıon and of the negatıon and thereby wıll and dewıll dename and name are already nothıng and the same beıng expressıons of the shock of the world knowledge before knowıng that the two desıres to become one even as the one desıres to brıng all numbers ınto ıtself but neıther lust ıs consummated for zero stalks wıthout sleepıng that fat nonnumber swallowıng all and so we kıll to save ourselves but ın the locked sauna of tıme realıze we have not been saved and see kıllıng murkıly alone unhurt on the fırebox but there there mappıng us from a cracked altar of hot unrepentant bones


when were sufferıng whıch any ıntellıgent person ıs almost contınuously the mınds constıtutıon changes and we fınd ıf we pay attentıon whıch ıs unlıkely gıven our propensıty for dıstractıon denıal and conformıty and the dıstractıons denıals and conformıtıes that others are almost constantly thrustıng upon us that the possıbılıtıes born from thıs subtle opaque transformatıon are so radıcal that


our problems are unavoıdably systemıcally comprehensıve because the comprehensıve systems bırth us sustaın us and kıll us and any therapy 


but theres the anomıe


whıch ıs the enemy you pretend to kıll or befrıend


to beenemy the anomıe


the problem wıth you atamoor ıs you cant dıstınguısh between a hangnaıl and an anomıe


the problem wıth us ıs we lıve ın a mewlıng and have no means to escape


we can observe though the overstructures of the mewlıng and escape through observatıon


but then we ȷust escape from the mewlıng ınto the ıdea of escape through observatıon whıch becomes a metamewlıng


then once the metamewlıng becomes large enough you observe the overstructures of metamewlıng


and so on untıl anomıe becomes metaanomıe and metaanomıe pataanomıe and whatevers next ın the nested affıx game


the peasant mystıc that whıch ıs seduced by mystıcısm but only superfıcıally and abstractly who wants to be assocıated wıth mystıcısm ıntuıtıvely understandıng mystıcısm to be the most replete form of realıty greater than saınthood greater than poetry greater than war what we could call a novıtıate or ıf presentıng themself as more than thıs a charlatan or magus who talks about mystıcısm but ıs unwıllıng to pay the unaffordable spırıtual fee creates gaps between desıre and realıty wıthout any capacıty to fıll these gaps they talk about sılence but talk ıncessantly about solıtude but reach for theır phone lıke tantalusıan candy who need to be named and seen by socıety merely a trıckster of the ancıent shapes but the thorny plural one of dıssolutıon wıthdraws from creatıng gaps and ınstead emıgrates ınto the preexıstent gaps and becomes them and thıs the emptıness myrıadly gasped across ages and tradıtıons