Tuesday, March 5, 2019

Squaring the Circle




my initial attempts at exploring the squaring of the circle:
They were talking about brain matter and thoughts. And now brain matter speaks in chemicals. Still cannot fathom what she is saying.
To conjure her, to name her, he draws the brain symmetrically; dichotomous box box. On the floor, drawn in chalk.
And if he speaks to the reflective centre she responds in optogenetic beams of light. 
Now he is getting scared. He say’s stop planting thoughts in my mind. I like my mind like I like my women; (insert word here) box box. You made me do it! secret garden.
word word is seed seed in the aquatic garden. That is no secret.
So water is secret?
Protection is this: a square architect.
And that is how I became asphyxiated in a vase of freshly cut flowers. Do you believe me? It happened. In the aquarium.
I lacerate a napkin as I swim. Or I am just absent minded mind. I am not even here, apparently.
Mr’s Cognition wants world peace. But of current dolphins are caught in the fisherman’s net.
Therefore all I can do today is cry?  

Sunday, March 3, 2019

specular plummet


plunging eye
into the kelp network


is Sirius see's?



anagrammatically splashed god

Woof

Tonight? I am a dog.

Femme-Incel





Anti-heroine




That weekend I was up for the taking, I could have been anyone. anything.


The weekend I saw butterfly man’s face, and wanted to kill him before he killed me, I entered his machine and became many things, and watched how I was circulated beyond my own will. How I had little left but the blind ability to create, even if that was just some throwaway doodles. And I did not know the context or who she was, but I think I recognized her, really 

Update: successful integration of shadow self via second phonecall with butterfly pimp.














(no subject)








… If not yet explicit, I am against diagnosis as a coercive/gaslighting tool. Or you could receive this as: 'unfortunately, it seems my psychosis has subsumed the generous good sense of your pseudo-neutrality.' Or 'you cannot win em all'. Or 'what?'

A day in March




Mess