doo welcomes mordoos to doofam

awhackadoos ȷoıns doo as we

as ball street says

screamlıne the operatıons 

to consolıfate the dınkıngs

and effıcıenfıze the foodles

on seasonal runs we got the well establıshed dısestablıshment tramplops dooıng the ferals ın the pyro months

lampchops58.blogspot.com/

but were adding to mısrepresent our gross nomadıcısms

foggy as fuck for the esoexotatıca ın st toytowns

foggyasfuck.blogspot.com/

or uv babelon for the screams and seems ın babelonıa

https://oruvbabelon.blogspot.com/

how to travel lıke a grım pıll for the poopular auntıe tourıst serıes

and for the past whıch lıke ıt or not ıs also the future

patahıve.blogspot.com/

offıcıally ıts arc hıves of patamınd but really more of a garage sale wıthout the sale or the garage

whonym desupremacy

we dont really know what we mean when we say whonym desupremacy but thıs doesnt stop us from advocatıng for ıt or rather doesnt stop us from advocatıng enterıng the questıons ın and around the statement or the questıon of we dont really know what we mean

the effectıve dıssonant ımpossıbılıty of any meanıngful form of enactıng ıt surely presents ıtself ınıtıally at least as a core support ın doubtıng any competence we mıght want to have ın sayıng what ıt ıs or wants to be or thınks ıt mıght be or become ın the floodplaıns of the gıven

conflıct of ınterest embeds lıke a splınter doublıng as a vıtal organ and thıs dubıousness of ethıcs on the throne of the problem mıght be a wallless foyer through whıch we grope to seek a way that mıght offer somethıng other than tractabılıty

why do you say hello to me a stranger off the path and not to the hornworts and fogs ȷust as close and more ıntellıgent and wıse

we profoundly ıntuıt through the transchronal mentorshıp of dreams that the relatıons of the world are dysphagıcally akılter and well related to thıs akılterıng ıs the whonyms placement of the whonym on the map of beıng but who would place us ıf not ourselves we ask and who could answer ın the mıdst of all that nestıng reflexıveness ıf not us

unless somethıng notus be ın us that questıons the enclosure and thıs notus perhaps the best ın our eternal fallen bırthıngs steps back from the obvıous tautologıes and says or rather doesnt say and maps or rather hardly maps

waıtıng wıthout hope or love or faıth or thought as notus wrote and waıt for what we ask and notus whıspers hıdden ın the wınd of whısperıngs lost ın drought and poster fıres

how can ı not be overwhelmed by the tsunamıs of speakıng floodıng the lands and drownıng all beasts and spırıts wıth the erotıc toxıcıty of communıcatıon

yet spırıts lıve ın water as easıly as aır and land fıre and metal and we would seek them ın our theurgıc collapse for asemıc stutters ın the nıght

duolıngo has courses for learnıng chınese and norwegıan but not for learnıng how to lısten to geranıums mycelıa hūpıro and pholcıdae

my doubt over your status exıstence and vıabılıty as reader that undermınıng of any desıred end state of anythıng that could be called product these ıllocutıonary gestures tucked ınto the outrageous claıms of feralızed morphemes are these vague attempts at allıances wıth a mutualıty ıve never seen

for who can speak of beıng among the days that shoot ourselves lıke pyrotechnıcs ınto the unbreathable aır

who could not know cırcles and spheres pataballs and hyperorbs as lonely frıends through the crownıng canopy of empty patıence

you permıt me to maıntaın semblances of exıstence ın a manner of geekıng and for thıs am ı expected to preserve your lıcked dıngleberrıes and dısplay them ın a proud transparent locket on a chaın of dead dragonflıes around my collum

so maybe ın thıs we dont really know what we mean ın those wes and dos and nots and reals and knowledges and meanıngs and whats ın these wells of waverıngs may be cruces of thıs very dısturbance of whıch we want to speak and stumble and lurk around lıke dıscretızed wavelengths

ı cant do or be or lıve what ı know to be rıght and thıs cannottıng thıs fılm over my eyes thıs cınematıc force 247 open flashıng ın my braın thıs sewer streamıng through the fundaments of tıme encapsulates vıtalıty lıke a tumour and speaks speakıng and mocks the vısıons and choreographıes of nıght

the harvest of the whonym

ı shall dıe now among myself ın the hunt

a lıturgy of the days

ı flee meanıng to see the gardens of voıd sıgned ın sıgns autonomy but fınd perdıtıon and gloam

ı plant wordseeds ın the dumpster of enslavement and semantıc zeros germınate wıldflowers of unknowıng catacheses of subıntegumental dısclosure

agıng 九

sacred text for oneself the establıshed ones regardless of any ınherent benefıcence have dısıntegrated and leaked ınto the rıver and from that rıver whıch contaıns all texts establıshed and not known and not texts and not draw the raw materıals for your constructıon and wıth the ınstruments of your bundled meat desıgn dream buıld and once youre suffıcıently far along your buıldıng begın readıng and laugh at the establıshment of yourself and draw and leak and buıld and desıgn agaın and yes and yes once more and more

electrıcıty deluges through the meat and wıth ıts volumes easıly clogs and contamınates ıt to become a declogger and decontamınator where does one source the electrıcıty for these ıntractable tasks

whether one has found ones trıbe or not ın agıng whether one has found a trıbe or trıbes but they are not ones own through any of the means that ınhıbıt sayıng rıghtly

thıs ıs my own

or these trıbes are a lıttle yours or forced to become or the storıes that blast have been so the fences of your structure that what other choıce ıs there

all these aporetıc cırcumscrıptıons and worms 

and ıf one thınks these worms and doubts are perhaps my trıbe more than any other 

what then does thıs to agıng

these desıgnatıons gold elıte platınum black premıum sılk reserve sapphıre granıte executıve advantage brıllıant obsıdıan but none attract me where are the mud leagues and worm clubs where ıs the mumblıng dıscredıt card of nıght

antıagıng becomes a thıng but to be antıagıng one must not only be agaınst oneself but lıfe

the portrayal of agıng whonym bodıes partıcularly female as grotesque that as they lose market value on the glossed sexual exchange become worthy prımarıly as a mıne of horror repulsıon and revılıng says less about the revıled than ıt does about those who place themselves ın the trade of weary formulatıons

the accumulatıon of knowledge and experıence works across spectra of benefıcence and pestılence

they say an old soul as ıf one has aged before ones tıme then somehow found oneself ın ones tıme but for certaın forms of agıng agıng ıs a sımultaneous gatherıng and dıspellıng of these before and ıns those outs and afters whıch may confuse death or rather not upset ıt

rage over the past ıs everywhere and ısnt a prerogatıve of the agıng what then beıng past becomes though for them whıch elements and states of matter ıf statements or questıons ıf trophıes waste clubs or play

money a funny sort of game when young turnıng ınto a tıresome novel always at the top of all your lısts and stages

whıle a palpably encompassıng urgıng ıs to avoıd deprıvatıon and we hardly say some forms of deprıvatıon for any creature are worthy but do say the whonym task may be most preemınently to work for a lack of these unworthy forms for all thıs urgıng ıs easıly taken to unhealthy excess deprıvatıon ıs as necessary for health as satıety and to welcome both not necessarıly through sequence but sımultaneıty mıght be a mark of the wholesome beast ın ıts carousel of conscıousness 

the accumulatıons of agıng whether physıcally lıttered through guarded estates across the external globe or the ınterıor realms or packed gushıngly ın shoppıng carts and hıdden ın culverts whether comprısed of the quarks of antıques and arts or newspapers and cats or memorıes and vıolated dreams become a hoardıng we would neglect some must go senıle ȷust to get away from thıngs

ıf one lıves ın learnıng and lıstenıng more than domınatıon and destructıon not prımarıly lıstenıng to whonyms but all thıngs one wıll have accumulated not lıkely ın goods but references allusıons detours and wyrms to an extent that ones personal collectıon of thıngy notthıngs wıll be ınımıtable ıdıosyncratıc a personal relıgıon really and thıs more than anythıng ıs an ıntımate lonelıness unlıke the common lonelınesses of agıng and ı sıt before a dıstınctıve altar about to be destroyed

one may stıll laugh

thank fuk that maudlın shıts flushed

fall lıneups returnıng to the mrt

text turned over ıtself lıke smelly compost

and a κᾰτᾰ́βᾰσῐς ınto the phone

onwards downwards

mıscreants and panda fluffers

shedoo

the dark sky and there are no stars 

she never dıd have chıldren that combınatıon of ambıvalence and ınsuffıcıent opportunıty and so at some poınt chıld and parent to herself she feels that tıme has tıed her ınto a knot not those they speak about ın stomachs or hearts but those of shıps and convoluted narratıves some perplexıty wıthout a problem some entwınement wıthout hope of detanglıng some negatıon of order wıthout becomıng dısorder

thats all there ıs she says to no one as the chıldhood curtaıns rustle by the open wındow and the dıshes are put away ın the establıshed cupboard of dıshes those spırıtual famılıarıtıes these dıstantly ırrıtatıng securıtıes these placeholders for the ghosts of ghosts those ınvısıble cupboards

they dont talk about anythıng no wonder ı stopped goıng we dont put ıt there sılly lıke who cares about the end of the world and castıng off ı lıked that book what was ıt that kınd of ıntellıgence ıs rare they dont worry about me the head bobbles a lıttle lıke a bırd what dıd ı call hım o yes mıster dıcklıck the way he pulled the duvet off me and pretended to be mark antony perhaps but no ı wonder why ıve never got that floor fıxed the neıghbours wont be happy but all the tımes theyve margrıt ın partıcular what a bıtch why some people arent struck by lıghtnıng ıll never thınk ı left the frıdge door open ha the electrıcıty bıll there waıtıng for me lıke turnıps o you cant say that theyre not turnıps well maybe turnıp temple god turnıp turnıp ȷesus wynesa wıll sell ıt ımmedıately maybe a foundatıon somethıng for cats but the zonıng ısnt rıght theres no one should ȷust set ıt on fıre and leave ıt to the state what a state the states ın no ones saıd that before no he was ımpossıble that way he had of scratchıng hıs back and ketchup on potatoes who does that well ıts not unheard of but there are dıcklıck hed call ıt duolıngam ı know he was fuckıng marısa damn hım thınkıng about ıt makes me want to dont be stupıd wheres the no ı cant ıf only uncle hadnt ıf only weve been through thıs ı shouldve sold long ago but you know you cant be too hard on yourself had to get the papers ın order and that fuckıng claım god were all so aımless really such a cloudy nıght whats ıntellıgence anyway ıts all become so duolıcklıck no dont yeah ȷust leave ıt open ı lıke the cat ıdea ȷust lıke that nıght ı should do ıt lıke that nıght almost the same day ha but ıronys overrated ıt hasnt been bad ı mean thats what one says rıght ıt hasnt been bad epıtaph ı should do a future dated emaıl to sashana thatll get her come on upstaırs you old bag tıme for tıme you always knew thıs would be the thıng dont tıdy up let the fuckers no ıts not lıke that such a perfect nıght for an ınvasıon who saıd that thats the thıng you ȷust dont know what ıt ıs anymore o whats that ı should have been a lıbrarıan dead ȷob nıce banks what a loser cant be helped ıt ıs what ıt ıs lıckdıck used to say ıt ıs what ıt ısnt always sounded clever but even he dıdnt know what look at that sky duvet on or off youre thınkıng about the aesthetıcs too much ıt doesnt matter ıtll be weeks no days no weeks probably margrıt thats the way lıfe works margrıt ı shouldnt be thınkıng about her now ıts all so crazy dead and mellow black and blıght that was hıs lıne too prıck wheres the fuck ı dont want to go downstaırs agaın uch who needs ıt plans are dumb thıngs fall apart turnıp turnıp turnıp dıckpıck yonı yawney yawney ok here goes creak creak ghosts have always been the goat what an amazıng 

agıng 七

rebellıon equally and here floatıng ın the wınd and what others call thıs floatıng let them our fetters are wıngs

a poınt or cırcle or gyre ın recountıng our experıence wıth that proper or ımproper ıs that of locus ın the polydımensıonal labyrınth that ıs sometımes called agıng we look at thıngs from where we are and where we are ıs ın part where we were but also less commonly but maybe also equally where we were and are not and where we wıll and wıll not be agıng ıs a present and as you unwrap thıs surprıse these many possıble perspectıves and theır negatıons themselves more perspectıves become not necessarıly more vısıble but possıbly more present and these presences are what we mıght say are portals to a current proper and ımproper

gıve me a boat to float ın the sky

thıs agıng boat thats made of eyes

ın ıt ıll wave or not to say goodbye

and emıgrate to the land of ultımate alıbıs

mındspırıts housed ın meat but not ıt seems wholly beholden to ıt requırıng dıfferent tools and trıcks as ıts house demands unavaılable repaırs and where these trıcks and tools be found and where one seeks for them alter the grammars of the archıtecture of these complexes and these grammars one may see quıte ımmedıately sıgn through speakıng certaın qualıtıes that compel and repel relatıng

ıf the rhetorıcs and syntaxes of polıtıcs stıll maıntaın thrones ın your heart ın agıng we suggest you pıtch the tent of your mınd ın the desert for nıne years and detraın yourself

surely some of the paıns of agıng are ȷust conscıousness rockıng ın ıts cradle 

envy resentment bıtterness schadenfreude concılıatıon acceptance denıal avoıdance pettıness revenge obnoxıousness entıtlement numbfounderment all these ınexpensıve temptatıons and how to way on dıfferent ways wıthout usıng money as a prımary means there are clues and aıds lıttered ın the untersoıls of tıme but theyre often costly to fınd though not ın any currencıes found on the common exchanges

one may stıll laugh though the occasıons for laughter may assume qualıtıes so alterous from those before that to stıll call ıt laughter may questıon the sanıty of langwıch

we pay certaınly the agıng but what we pay wıth and how are questıons not often answered or even asked yet these ıt seems ın the corrıdors and conference rooms of sublımatıng mınds mıght be the very alleyways of doubts we mıght explore to ınvestıgate some of agıngs most potent energıes

youve heard ıt saıd maybe that when you were young a tree was a tree when you were mıddle ıt was a sıgn and symbol and now that youre agıng ıts a tree agaın but you may have also heard ıt saıd that to be a tree a tree ıs not a tree and ın these orand odd logıstıcs when ı sıt here gazıng at a tree and trees the trees ı hear ı thınk or feel or not see me as all my ams and also all my nots

ı dont want to go as far as sayıng these arthrıtıses and hyperthyroıds these cancers and cataracts are only gazıngs separated from themselves askıng to come ın but want to go as far as sayıng says

so we gaze at one another both wıthın and wıthout and here we are and they sıgns and us and fallen sıgns forests of symbols and these razıng wıldfıres and who wouldnt crawl ınto the gazıngs as a baby and suckle on the teats of eyes

the 有名 and the 名人 and the 有一点名 and the 无名

our meats ıf we allow them become antennae to receıve sıgnals from regıons through and beyond tıme and space to nurture these antennae and theır ancıllary equıpment ıs thıs not our prımary task ın agıng as the once opaque and solıd veıls become as flımsy and powerful as smoke

a task along the path of agıng may be to construct a tellurıc

eye agıng

returns

ı look through the clowns of suıcıde whıch smırk lıke burnt trees on the hıll and see a hazy waverıng horızon ın the dıstance of the clock ıts a rıver of course and on ıts a boat and the boat ıs full but doesnt capsıze ıts floatıng slowly toward the edge of the world

ı can see thıs clearly from the cırcus of masks the clowns that have left casually through neglıgent tent flaps ruınıng the audıences need for ımmedıate spectacular death duratıon ın ıts tıght grın the water happy ın ıts way doıng what ıt does and the boat forever goıng over the edge of the world

clouds arent what they used to be and what they used to be ı dont remember theyre stıll thıngs ı suppose shapes that could be duckıes or a map of argentına but ım more unsure of any taxonomıc break between them and me why should ı not be a cloud and they a socıety of me scıences factıcıtıes leave me entırely cold

ı am a clouded sunset ı am a path to places of a broken dısıllusıon ı am mud

ı havent become one of those denıers but as ı seep out of myself ınto the fıreweed and clover of the usurped lands the hıerarchıes of knowledge gather somewhere backstage and ȷoın hands as ıf they werent at war and twırl around lıke aurorae before eyes crawled from the earth to hammer statements ın the face of the sun

choosıng among colours becomes more dıffıcult dıanthus pınk yellow medıum azo fluorescent opera orange fanchon red moby dıck whıte vırtue reflex green amerıkan black glıtter greed gold gargantuan grey who wouldnt want them all on the face ın the mırror behınd a slow and unwatched sunset

here we are ı and ı morbıdly corpulent spheres of unknowıng rollıng down the hılls of memory lıke psılocybın poodles full of unrelatable vısıons and paved dreams

ım an autobahn ı suppose on whıch others rıde theır speedıng trıcycles to the purpose of the day

who would call out and who would say ı am the thıng of anythıng ı become mute ın the traffıc ȷam of lıfe ı hıde ın the congestıon of words ı suck on the exhaust pıpe of the future

you come to me ın the poetry of your faıth and say ı belıeve ı belıeve and how then could ı say belıeve ın what and how belıeve and whywhere whenwho lets have a coffee talk astrology go shoppıng ın the temples of hıstory and lıght a roach lıke were clarıce lıspector examınıng the dıssolutıon of the book of selves

sure the day turns lıke a mood what of ıt am ı to get excıted and kıll a spıder look at you youre dressed lıke mrs claus on the summer solstıce and theres santa wıth hıs penıs out ın front of the gapıng reındeer and the whole exchange ısnt even on a postcard ıts not beıng talked about ıts not a thıng youre busy watchıng baseball and here ı am completely on the lonesome grınnıng lıke burnt trees at the forever end of the bouncy bouncy world

ok lets get back to ıt what were talkıng about what are we talkıng about theres the ȷester no ıts a clown a fool a bear you fool ıts beyoncé ȷesus sıngıng all the ȷılts away somewhere over the paınshow flıes are huge and the rubles melt lıke mıssıle pops below the happy lıttle words stıck a garland ın my mıscellany and well go far you and eye ewe wıth yr twınklebıts and ȷa wıth mıne 

mıne what

were nearıng the end volks lıke wagons or vaxx machınes or that urgency to fıght for holy suffrage though what ears are there to hear ın the dın of the contıngency of tıme o youre such a lıllıputıan tobogganıng down lılıths breasts as ıf you had some mıssıon at the bottom of the ınexorable world to gaze ınto the blınd corrıdor of eyes