I Blade Open The Book

I blade open the Book and the Book dream dreams me equally open. I blade open the Book always open and the Book comma commands me to me / write Book. I always write Book first time every time. I blade open the Book broad carcosa and intensities of the Book fire broad blonde. Blonde Book branches breakaway Book branches additional beak intensities. Blonde Book raises its banner of love over me.

I blade open the Book cascade slate locusts. Locusts swarm Books death and deaths. Book swarms warm death crucifixions as if the locusts crucify (for dying is manner of seeing invisible insects).

(A labyrinth fully known A labyrinth fully gnostic A labyrinth fully mazes madison)

Book grows the dandelion labyrinth Book grows dandelion cellar door opens cellar door leads cellar door continual doors (Doors multiply in the ribcage of the Book)

I’m having a hard time and I’m continuing to try, I say. I’m not going to give up… You still love me even through in struggling, yeah? And we are still Pando even though I’m struggling? Yes, says Asia. I feel like a drag, I say. A drag queen? says Asia. Be a drag queen whose whole shtick is being depressed. Like blanket cape and slippers, she says. Here she is… BIPOLAR BRIANNA, I say. And then you’re like “COULD a depressed person DO THIS?” says Asia. And you show them something crazy niche artwork that shows you are in fact depressed, says Asia.

(A labyrinth fully known drags open the Book A labyrinth fully gnostic kneads fire fully blonde A labyrinth fully library struggles through the maze murder mystery)

I blade open the Book ACT and DO: I’m still feel depression like DO Blade intensities of Book caring love like blanket THIS Book cascade called call girl girls drag in DO (she was ready to try anything)

Book swarms erotic crucifixions / I was a surfer’s orgy girl Book hard even drag and show (soft flesh and orgies of death)

Do – do whatever this crucifixions calls crucifixion. I do the call to crucifixion before the Book blade cascades. I’m not too clever, you know – I just continue to carrying these crosses and write the Book wider and wider. When the Book drags, it leaves wider labyrinth behind it. Book hard drags and shows time mates through slippers. Do and continually do, whether show through slippers.

//
(Can I be that, in the book, dying means becoming invisible to all others, but decipherable to yourself? Could it be that, in the book, writing becomes legible to all others, but undecipherable to yourself? For dying is a manner of seeing the invisible…)

I steal the above passage from The Book of Questions by Edmond Jabès and translated by Rosmarie Waldrop. I exist in this book / Book and this Book always re/writes my act of dying. I act in death. My invisible death to myself but open – opening of opening and the blank of the Book scarred with blood – to all others. I do not belong to these others – I only belong to this acting dream of the Book. My so-called body opens and spreads out its surfaces. Surfaces disappear into the Book invisible / surfaces erupt into crack train korakoram. Writing inscribes the unknowable upon the apophatic avalanches. Negative snow covers the Book not-quite-legible but existence.

My body is dying – all bodies die in recognition of the unknowable Book but my body dives in process possess death. Book possesses death a different death which drags glacier labyrinth. Book spins death pirouettes (Book wines and dines death silhouettes and shadows sketch excess death imposing the excessive line sketch sketch death).

My body dies in sketch pursue death stretch unsteady (I feel I’m going to die and paralysis stretches my body unsteady – not paralysis but stretches my body unsteady – but paralysis parathesia) For dying is a manner of seeing the invisible
//

I blade open the Book and open the so-called body (body spreads out its surfaces) My body spreads out Book and invisible death and undecipherable Book
An open body overlay down to osseous overlay
An open body often other body blood blood this grass body
This grass body gathers gross bodies This grass body gruesome bodies

(A labyrinth: we are in fact depressed like a drag A labyrinth depressed like blanket cape and we artwork that show then your could a drag A labyrinth a drag a drag a drag a depressed blanket cape)

I’m working on a blog post where you tell me about poems disintegrating language and the poem “Beware: Don’t Read This Poem,” I tell Asia. How that kind of poetry you have to learn how to swim. If I want to write that way, I have to expect people having bad initial reactions. I then use your conversations and the poem and disintegrate the languages together, I say. Nice, says Asia. How do you interpret the Ismael Reed poem “Beware: Don’t Read This Poem?” I say. To me, says Asia, it’s about the stories we consume, the news we consume and how it shapes our reality. I see that, I say. I interpreted the poem as a mirror and how writing inflicts a certain kind of violent transformation if we aren’t careful. Don’t read this poem because it might devour you cogitohazard, I say. [I send Asia the snippet incorporating some of disintegrations.] Enjoy this stanza especially, says Asia.

[Oceanic park dark oceanic swallows modular dark her antler word (beware her word anarchic antlers beware her word oceanic antlers / antler ambulance blues) Park dark oceanic swallows beware do not read this poem and this poem has had you up to here]

And MULCH MULCH MULCH, says Asia.

I blade open the Book, and in the Book, dying means becoming invisible
Open the body create other
Open the body create one other body bronze body without organs
Can open body orients onward word open
Blade open oceanic large MULCH on Dark Book MULCH then through dark MULCH

The so-called body spread out open its surface ocean (my so-called body surfaces upside down depths / upward roots and radials)

(A labyrinth fully known branches post your swallowed body A labyrinth fully gnostic where conversation modular and brush A labyrinth fully library you and dark large and you drag mazes)

I Draw These Letters That Reveal Pando

I draw these letters as the day draws its images and blows over them and does not return

I do return but guard rhizome makes (Therefore a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.  And the man and woman were both naked and not ashamed / and they crucified him and divided his clothes among them casting lots to decide what each should take)

I do not return but my naked rhizome ejaculates sap Tree of Knowledge.  Knowledge always crucifies.  Knowledge always crucifies naked and my myth naked cleaves to my myth naked double gnosis.  I do not return but gnarl gnosis into my spinal column and pelvis.

I draw these letters and the day draws its images and from the second Elohim until the third, five words appear
(Five words appear     Five words appear appear words apparitions     Five words appear architect     Five words and words appearance architecture)
I draw these letters stele naked – nude now divided by lots – stele shellac these draw Elohim two or three Elohim


//
I draw written rewritten

Written rewritten rewrite this again (again rewire dune her this she)

Written rewritten wreckage disappeared wreckage rewritten (impossible alternate alternate reality game rewritten)

I draw myself doomed – I feel doomed – doom X doom     Doom hidden big fuck shadows / UFO tornado (I feel feel felt fold feel doom)

I draw doom doom worry door open my hand dives my hand death tingles paralysis (my hand loop hands blue dying)
	My hands hurts in draw
	My hand pains me
	My hand hurts draw letters
//


I draw these letters naked Elohim and Elohim door doom and Elohim fine words drawn

I draw the letters they compelled this man to carry his cross and when they came to the place called Golgotha (which means place of a skull), they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall; but when he tasted it, he would not drink it

What draws you to the term “Pando” to describe our friendship?  Trees, says Asia. […] I think I brought it up as a metaphor and you really liked it and it stuck […] As in I like Pando as a term and description.  I just feel like you overanalyze it and ask me to overanalyze it.  I think it’s cool but it deeply resonates with you so maybe you should be asking why you feel drawn to it, says Asia.

I drawn these letters you should be asking when you feel drawn to it     Draws Pando place called Golgotha
	Place of a skull salt pit sketch stone
	Draw place of a skull salt malt halt halting problem prostitution

I draw these letters and the day draws it so maybe you really liked it and dissecting what
	This why raw.  This why draw letters – letters stone Elohim and 
	cast lots letters crucifixions.  This why we draw:  Pando Elohim
	and Pando naked and it draws the images trees.
I draw letters place of a skull sacred prostitution

I describe the drawing trees sun Pando

I draw Pando letter myth naked crucifixion mythology (a time will come when people will think I’m a myth or rather something newspapers have made up)
	I draw trees I’m myth
	Draw Pando mythologies mixed with mercury mythology drawn Pando
Myth newspaper collage acrylic dripped over newspaper

What draws sea to the niff “Pando” to graveyard our friendship?  Trees, says Asia.  Also why do we keep dissecting this?  I think cruelty up and a metaphor and you really jigged it and it stuck. […] As in I like Pando ash niff and descriptor […] I think it’s cool but it deeply resonates with you so maybe you bluets be indeed why you dead drawn to it)

What draws me to Pando trees, roots, rhizomes.  Our underground root system.  I do not return but gnarls naked rhizome.  Pando permeates rhizome always eluding interruption, and every rupture in our friendship causes new buds and roots and stems to flow forth.  Pando draws me to the community and communal creativity of our friendship.

I draw these letters and the day draws its images and blows over them and does not return
	I return and do not return
	I draw and do not draw
Pando draws the letters and Pando names the name Elohim.  Pando calls the male and female naked, and the Woman mothers all living (I return and do not return to living).  Pando names the name Elohim: Pando five words from Elohim double blossom crucifixions.

I draw the letters and I concentrate on the letter-images many stems     Draw letters holy meditations / permutations of the concealed Pando name     Draw images – image root stem god drawings
	I draw god letters Pando lagoon

I think of Pando and our histories, I say.  Our stories.  Our myths.  Our narratives.  Pando isn’t one thing.  Our friendship isn’t one thing.  But today I think of our history and our overcoming of conflicts and how our friendship prophesies.  That’s our roots entangled too, I say.  That’s a good way to put it, says Asia.

Our friendship prophesies god letters / place of the skull     Our friendship prophesies that’s our history and our histories   our story and our history and our history and how our roots entangled too

I draw these letters and the day draws its images from the second Elohim

Towards The In/Significant

Towards the insignificant Towards the insignificant magnificat Towards the insignificant significant towards

Towards flexible time brackets with single sounds produced towards the insignificant (single sounds single sounds)
I act towards insignificant sounds
I act towards flexible sounds
Single sounds single sounds

Towards the in/significant – in the insignificant – an in/significant sound Towards the insignificant / a cuckoo fades away and in its direction, a single island (a single island sound / a single sound inland)
Towards starting continuing stopping moving on
In/significant starting continuing copy sounds
I start to copy, continue copying and in the stop, I continue: I continue stations of the cross and I copy stations of the cross (stations star bare shoulders slight snow)

Towards my in/significant: my body in body durations and sounds. A time will come when people will think I’m a myth or rather something newspapers have made up. I’m a myth and I sound myth. I’m a myth and I math. I myth make myth math mapmakers. I make up makeup mascara multiplicity and I make my faces myth (mark of cain and seed of seth).

I continue with flexible time brackets: I continue stations of the cross single sounds produced. I endure stations and stations towards.

I continue towards the in/significant / cuckoo fades away away

Towards the in/significant which sounds flexible sound towards…
I feel foolish – foolish feelings, for thoughts – they feel foolish – how – I don’t know how… Difficult to write but writing continues – continues nowhere copy and copy and copy in/significant. I miss Asia – we usually talk the mornings. She usually talks the mornings not insignificant. … Our friendship continues and grows. Towards the in/significant – my sound sound myth (towards my myth – my embarrassment – my in/dependence) … I grow into the entangled independence of Pando … Cut this insignificant, this empty bracket. My brain possess repetition – I survive in insignificant repetition – I prophesy myth sound Pando.

I draw these and the day draws its images and blows over them and does not return

I draw in/significant signs the sigil of the myth I’m a myth I’m a myth: I myth I myth make math myth mapmaker Mottled myths myth spore mechanics / lichen she lights the lights

I myth Pando (What draws you to the term “Pando” to describe our friendship? I say. Trees, says Asia. Also, why do we keep dissecting this? I think we brought it up as a metaphor and you really liked it and it stuck; other than that I’m not 100% sure how it happened; it just did. I don’t mind it but still […]. I like Pando. I just feel like you overanalyze it and ask me to overanalyze it. I think it’s cool but it deeply resonates with you so maybe you should be asking why you feel drawn to it, says Asia.) I myth Pando: myth mechanics malleable jellyfish
Malleable jellyfish nettle newspapers
Newspaper collage acrylic dripped over newspaper
Robert Rauschenberg tree combines

Towards the insignificant / a cuckoo fades away and leaves sounds branches and roots I continue copy (What draws you do the band “Pando” do describe our friendship? Create. Also why do we keep redrawing it?) I start to copy Pando and I continue copying Pando and I redraw her stations of the cross

Towards the in/significant grows tree myth: malleable and anarchic Pando

Free Bow Fragment

Act Act in aleatoric stone arrangement of stones Act Act stone activity

Act in my aleatoric and chance body without organs (53 flexible time brackets with single sounds produced on 1, 2, 3, or 4 strings. Durations, dynamics, and bow positions free)

Time inside time free duration. Time inside time in time free bow positions. Time in time free endures duration. I endure to time for 1, 2, 3, or 4 strings. Theater time. To times theater time and train time and time theosis.

Act Towards the insignificant act free duration Act, towards the insignificant / a cuckoo fades away and in its direction, a single island

Act. Act in what: the how or who of my body for strings. Act in what with my body flexible time brackets (my flexible flesh endures time and timeless durations). Act in what: what time brackets with single sounds and my body sounds 4 strings. I free bow four strings of my body towards the insignificant.

Towards the insignificant / a cuckoo fades away and in its direction, a single island – a single sound
(A free sound towards the insignificant)
Starting continuing stopping moving moving on
Starting continuing copying stopping copying
I start to copy, continue coping and in the stop, I continue

Act: I continue towards the insignificant (the first shall be last and the last shall be first) I continue towards the insignificant (Philip K. Dick writes: For me and Mankind, a new age is opening in which the holy, expected from the top, so to speak, returns at the bottom, at the trash stratum of the alley, humble and noble, beautiful and suffering and alive and conscious...)

Start In Syllables

Start with odd electricity in syllables – electric green throughout

Syllable window sill stresses monster syllables: solar panel monster windows Monster windows still sill cinders stress syllables

Start with other syllables: syllable to syllable cellar door dreams (Mr. Sandman bring me a dream)

Start with the syllable cellar door – start with the syllable electric green throughout neon jolly ranchers – start throughout the smooth action of the Book but without transition – start with last universal common ancestor – start with Mr. Sandman bring me a dream and hey Mr. Tambourine Man play a song for me. Start.

Act and create in syllable umbrellas / underneath haunted houses Act animation bodies without organs Act animated syllable cellar door (53 flexible time brackets with single sounds produced on 1, 2, 3, or 4 strings. Durations, dynamics, and bow positions free.)

I act in self-reflexivity. Therapist appointment today. Partly discuss the Book and why I want my process of creating to be transparent and documented. Therapist asks why and how I arrived at this theme in the Book, and I think about it for awhile and I trace the open creative process to the Bible with its multiplicity of voices and it’s almost-open aggregation of texts, doublets, repetitions with differences
– The freedom of mental and spiritual exploration and risk in the Exegesis of Philip K. Dick
– My belief the process of creation is as or more important as the end creative product
– My desire to be understood, to tell my future self what I’m doing and what experiments to follow, and to inform the audience of my techniques and procedures so they understand the Book better and follow its evolution
– The Book demands the documentation of its creation

//
Syllables double syllables two cellar doors and too witch windows

I had a therapist appointment today – every Tuesday. Today I learned the three C’s in dealing with anxious thoughts: catch check change

Catch – recognize I am not my thoughts and can separate my thoughts from myself
Check – is this thought true or useful?
Change – change the thought to match or align better with my goals and intentions

Therapy seems alright. Asia says there’s a positive difference.

I was just thinking about how therapy seems to be helping you, says Asia. You seem to be more grounded. Like even during your low periods you’re able to find your center faster and more often. I haven’t had to talk you out of a spiral in awhile; you have been doing a good job talking yourself out of spirals, says Asia.

Start with syllable – whatever syllable you’d like I slurp on primeval soup – syllable abiogenesis I pour a parodic chicken soup on cylindrical sisters (spiral offerings poured onto the ground)

I sweep snow underneath the serpentcoach and I swing cryptid and crises and crysis, a cicada song language
I slurp out of a spiral in awhile you
Syllable window seems to be helping your center faster
Faster faster and more
Falter faster faster more grounded
I sweep snow arpeggios animal sleet and I sweep sleet / ghost sheets her sister cylinders
//

Start syllables faster faster faster syllables Any syllables – this syllable

Does this poem exist elsewhere? Anywhere to make it – any syllable (make Take Five) Where this syllable slurps nonsense – even nonsense travels green electric city through my brain rain
I’m the I what out guessing color if it was green
Throughout jolly rancher syllable electricity
I closest imagine her to hodge colors this hex figure podge or is bed
Start syllable it could to write they nonsense and pure sound. Sound poetry?

I always feel doomed and I always write doomed. Doomed where? Anywhere, much like starting syllable. Anywhere, much like anxious poetry and jabberwocky wholly mammoth word. I always feel doomed, you know, and I don’t know the know of syllable lines. Lines from Insomnia by Elizabeth Bishop: Into that world inverted / where life is always right / where the shadows really are the body / where we stay awake all night / where heavens are as shallow as the sea / is now deep and you love me… Romantic love? Kindred love? Unrequited love? Taryn and Christina love. Madly in love with Taryn – sometimes still madly in love with Taryn. Madly in love with Christina – she’s the love of my life, isn’t she? When I finish the Book and die, and obituaries and biographies are perhaps written, Christina is the love of my life – Kindred but also primordial, the Book Proverb and Psalm, an unrequited love on the cross – but a love that always exists between us: Kindred. I disappear in the unconditional love of Kindred. In the inverted world where Christina loves me.

Start syllable: animated syllables and syllable kin krystal alchemy Syllable red bed or nails a single sound towards annihilation

Kindred 53 flexible time brackets Single sounds: single syllables

Use Electricity Throughout

At some point or throughout use electricity Search some other electricity Search urgent earth electricity Electric hard hole hole what you like the plain object

At some point throughout, use electricity
Search some other electricity
Search urgent earth electricity
Electric land hole. What you like the plain object.
Plane objects plane play plan Object animal Object anvil oval animal

Many electricities: many plain objects

I couldn’t write today, I say to Asia. I wrote one page and that was a struggle. My soul feels depleted. Empty. I’ve been thinking of editing some conversations I have saved of us – and me and Christina – and just build little pieces around them. Maybe writing about our friendships directly will be helpful in reigniting some creative energy, I say. Maybe you should take a little break from writing, says Asia. If you are struggling like that, I think you should try to find a way to take it easy, she says. I see what you mean, but it makes me feel depressed not to create, I say. You can create in other ways, says Asia. Or do microwriting like minute poems.
“Fermat’s Last Poem”
Asia says: You can create
In other ways. Do microwriting.
I write a truly marvelous
Poem which this margin is
Too narrow to contain.
You like my micropoem? I do, says Asia.

Use electricity throughout: electric plain objects and plain myth in common meter myth. I wrestle – what other word besides wrestle or struggle – with the myth of the Book and electricity of the Book. I fight contra Book its intimidating myth I have created from it / for it. I continue to write the Book, even in its painful electricity. To paraphrase Philip K. Dick, when I create, I am crazy and when I don’t create, I suffer from psychotic depression. I prefer crazy: unhealthy obsessive? – creation – over the psychotic depression. Wrestle with the fear and cycle of not being bold and brave enough yet not wanting to risk failure. Wrestling with the Book in uncreative delirium forces me to risk and make something ugly or silly or embarrassing.

This Note/Book becomes ultimately malleable and inclusive. The climb of creating Book forces – gives permission for me – to include all processes, all experiments, and all research. Poems, diary, lyrics, research, me fucking up. The space for breath – anxiety – breath. Breathe turns long screw anxieties and I breathe music blisters / second degree burns in my ears. I listen to emo revival / fourth wave emo: Camping In Alaska, Marietta, Brave Bird, Sports., Free Throw, Snowing… Never grew out of being an emo kid – I grew into it more securely, more assuredly.

I listen to the song Nineveh by Brandston. I haven’t listened to this song in a long time:

If for a moment I could overcome my fear
I wouldn’t have to hide this friction wall
Sometimes I wonder how I call myself your friend
A failure to myself a failure to him
What if I told you would you reach for him after all
Would you fall down to your knees
Would you walk away from it all
Would you fall down at his feet

None of Brandston’s songs are as great as this one. However, I do like their song “Grace Think I’m A Failure”:
She said that I’m a shining star in her sky and I feel that far away…

I feel that far from any god and I feel that far from myself, this Ben Adam / Ben Hinnom. I feel that far away but I continue to create, even to the glass breaking in my room again.

At some point or throughout use electricity Electrical activity maps brain onto brain / exchange of ions painted or nylons you must construct additional pylons

Throughout use electricity plain objects. I work electrical material and material electricity. Electricity cut spaces: electric space variable timings (I act in electrical activity. I act activity active electricity).

Activity characterizes by process essential purposelessness Activity Activity action acts of the apostles activity Activity anarchy actively anarchy

At some point, throughout electricity: fucked up eclectic At some point, go keep going somewhere else somewhere fucked Nowhere point at some point use electricity throughout

We decided to let [our daughter] help pick out the color of her new bed, says Asia. I’ll give you the whole color picking story and you’ll get an insight of the four year old brain. I decided that I needed a way to narrow down her choices and I was trying to figure out how to do that. At the same time, we went to Goodwill the other day and she got a bag of paper confetti and was super excited to use it. I thought, “What if I hodgepodge the confetti to the bed?” So I then decided to take a picture of the confetti and make a color palette. Here’s the palette we ended up with. We went to Lowe’s and picked out the closest colors (or at least ones that matched). And we ended up with these. I had her pick four favorites and we ended up with these. Which look like jolly ranchers. Guess which one she picked? One of the four. I’m guessing the green, I say. Yup, says Asia. So imagine this is a huge piece of furniture and her room is just bigger than a walk-in closet and it’s fucking electric green. Technically, “apple jade”, says Asia.

Search some other electricity: hazard catastrophe hodgepodge happenings Search electric green throughout

Search fuck out and I picture out the closest and ended that I needed to use it (Search my inclusive electric green and my hodgepodge Book cut confetti)

I embrace my love for the nostalgic and overly romantic and sentimental. I embrace my love of quotation and lyric and drama. I embrace my creative crazy and recording of my embarrassing emotions without metaphor or obfuscation. This belongs to me (my sins they belong to me).
This jolly rancher electric green belongs to me
I thought what if I hodgepodge picked out of these belongs to me
I had her help picture out the same time belongs
I disembark hodgepodge play electricity throughout confetti

I miss my youth when I was getting into second wave? – third wave? – emo and discovering bands like American Football and Mineral and Sunny Day Real Estate and Further Seems Forever…

(Too nostalgic. I notice my anxiety subsides in the music.)

Cut space: at some point or throughout use electricity Electric act and we went to narrow down her choices and was trying to let we Cut space electric green
Action Action Act Process
Activity characterizes by process essential purposelessness
Electric green: anarchic activity Act music nostalgic anarchy

Cut All This Shit

Cut all this shit something else Cut crisp kiss something else nonlinear
(Cut nonlinear remains nonlinear Cut nonlinear slides align nonlinear)

Cut all this shit something else Cut elephant guardian gods gab glut gut assassins

Cut all this and I watch the white dogs of dawn. I crow crow her god body: I crow blood circulations. Cut circulates sawcut bone cut marble circuitry. Cut into circuitry: cymbal circuit strike hike skirt serpent. Cut into circuits: skirt serpent skin saw. I wear the skirt and saw simultaneously (saw and skirt and interlaced hula hoops), and my skin splinters stone white. Cut skin: it sees splinters water bog drawing evening shadows across waters. Cut into Ben Body bodies body without organs birds.

Cut all this skin something else: cut into the saw song
I’d rather be the devil than that woman man
I’d rather be the devil deviled eggs
I’d rather be the devil delivered
I’d rather remember

Cut all this skin and I’d rather be the devil than that woman man (Devil cuts my skin Taryn and Taryn twists the cut lightning Taryn Telemachus titans not terrestrial but trickster)

Cut all this skin devil woman and daemon woman (Trickster Taryn telescopes telescope arcade tokens time timaeus demiurge Taryn transformer transforms train tables train times tables train water table tabula rasa)

Cut space: cut space skin scandalous Cut space spark space cut across / across school fragment of variable timings)
Taryn time timings trimmings from the entirety of the cut
Cut space (at some point or throughout use electricity. Search urgent earth electricity. My electric land holes tophat wears what you like the plain object.)
Cut space plain objects plane play plane
Plane Trickster Taryn twists
Plane Taryn tricks my skin cut this shit
Plane Trickster Taryn contorts the Book devils
Timings object animal Book Object anvils oval anvil

//
I cut into the shit and abject of my skull: I bore holes in my brain excrement. Cut it all away, to the bare bone up the texts.

I think too much in allusion: allusion / quotation – other texts. I quote Qohelet: there’s nothing new under the sun, including this quotation. This text is mine. This text belongs to me and erupts from my brain shit and abject excess. I claim this text direct from my experimental excrement (exit does not exist). I always exist elsewhere, sometimes in the intersection of the Trickster unconditionals.

I cut into the skin shit of my skull and I recognize action action. Asia shares how much – action and action. I recognize action in the act of the art (actions descend into art actions). I act in odd recognition even numbers / infinitesimals.
//

Cut space: cut space skin scandalous Cut across chaos rollerblading fingers Fingers flaw forest fan man Holyfield versus Bowe II Cut all this shit something else (I see it this way. Horror is part of the human experience. So is disgust, terror, anxiety, and the sublimation of those feelings. I don’t want to leave those feelings to those people. It is too essential to being human for me to cut it out of me and leave it to others. Even if I have to objectify my own body to carve out space then I will do it. Because that’s part of being human for me.)

Cut frequent forest skin sand Book of Sand Cut scan slam Book of Sand Cut scan skin essential to cut it out of me
Cut well anxiety is leave I see
Cut and too it will it the essential to do
Book of Sand this sublimation to others

//
For me to cut it out of me: disgust, terror, anxiety, and horror

I suddenly feel intense anxiety – no reason why and sudden onset. Breath in breath out. Deep breaths. Write the breath as I breathe each breath, and I breathe into the pit, this rift (horror human experience: disgust, terror and anxiety)

Me to leave to cut in this way / horror is to leave that’s part of me to leave it out space I breathe into this rift – this pit – tobacco pipe – chemistry pipette – rift open beetle anxiety – anxiety fucks me up – it fucks up cup crown around cauldron fucks and anxiety destroys other

(Anxiety leave it to those feelings I don’t want to leave that’s part of being human Human Human anxious for me to leave to leave to leave it out of them anxious)

(This notebook becomes malleable into anything. Poems, dairy, without directions, anxiety fucking me up. The space for breath – anxiety – horror – quotation…)

For me to cut it out from me: disgust, terror, anxiety, and horror
//

Cut all this shit something else Something else: woman of the dunes cut Book of Sand space horror woman of the dunes (Sand material dune material material Gospel of Mark marriage)

Cut all this shit the sounds of my skull (Trickster Taryn takes a bone sample of my skull telescope Telescopes bone arcade Taryn transformation the cut into my skin glowing transformer)

This Has No Direction

In no direction, a freedom of memory and archive exists An experimental freedom exists

The flight of the non-euclidean fly intrigues me I fly wide weird up the gut
Fly between possible and impossible
Impossible eye engine
(The possible has been tried and failed – now it’s time to try the impossible)

I fly weird wide way non-euclidean excess (The possible has been tried and failed – the possible has been tried and the world ceases to transform toward the divine – now it’s time to try the impossible)

The impossible intrigues me: the impossible of the impossible intrigues me and I fly fire fires flip fires floating

The impossible intrigues me – the direction and without-direction intrigues because it gives possibility of impossible without-transition and the sounds-existing-as-themselves. The impossible intrigues and I fly spherical and hyperbolic embolism / fat embolism flying air embolism coordinates.
Fly floating impossible oscillations
Strange wave rogue nonlinear
The chaotic and nonlinear intrigues into abyss mystery (abyss mystery mystery of mysteries non-euclidean holy spirit)

This has no direction but I let no direction fuck up my brain differently. No direction foams brain wallpaper and I fear. I fear getting early onset dementia. I fear almost everything almost panphobia.
Nothing I fear anything and everything
(my brain dies apocalyptic)
I fear my apartment because a pocket apocalypse will occur here. Soon I will disappear / how to disappear completely.

I listen to Für Alina by Arvo Pärt and the transcendent melancholy of tintinnabuli strikes me. I imagine melancholy as always transcendent in the same way I always imagine my mania transcendent – everything miserably immanent and local, localized in the immediacy of my own brain. I fear my own face and my own body and I almost despise my body in the impossibility of my body.

My body body burden of the valley of vision This is my body given for you, the body body burden of the valley of vision (My body caves into the sink hole and black hole of absolute melancholy – melancholy center-of-the-earth melancholy. The descent of the ascent of my body transcends marriage of heaven and hell. My body enthrones the throne of Merkabah mysticism – the remarkable mysticism of my body my body absolute apophatic.) My body blusters blisters blunder bull school bus
School bus blouses blue bell blossoms
Body bursts burrs bursa

My swallow body nuder intertextuality (body entirely text text test tar tables entirely body)

This has no direction No direction / a word of meaning far from its sound

Far from far from sound Asia rampage rhizome rhythm juxtapose rain chant Rain enchants Children of Men / mallsoft malabsorption Alpha radiation metabolism
Molotov cocktail metaphysics
Her rain enchants cantor for me little jazz jackal
Jackal jazz ajar
Jackal jazz Jacob Frank future flutter flatter cluster
Cataclysm comb apocalypse
I copy apocalypse into my body: copy apocalypse into apocalypse and apocalypse within apocalypse I copy without direction and into apocalypse without direction

This has no direction and I direct my body into multidirectional apocalypse without direction / my body chaos. My body bursts blossoms-into-seventh-trumpet apocalypse and chaos bowl of wrath. I appreciate apocalypses, at least until they strike the dead (death welcomes the overture of dead / my death vibrates bel canto Ezra Pound’s Cantos contaminate my body).

This had no direction because too much reference quotation other texts this text in time
Not since Frankenstein walked on earth has the world known
so terrifying a day – or night! Black Frankenstein
This text in time / this time is time. This text belongs to me and erupts from my transcendent-immanent body. I claim this text. I claim this no direction. Direction direct drive turntable / exit does not exist.

The direction does not exist: it always exists elsewhere

This Is Called The Transformation Of Things

Universal perpetually creates Universe perpetually creates Christ and Cross

I create: create milk carton insect geometry
Young man intrigued by the flight of a non-euclidean fly

I create youth devours YHVH. Youth here here wholly happen. Young guts grab guts and my guts jello allow big gelatin gallows. Long board surfs surfs youth gallows girth god (her god grabs god generous god gumbo). God intrigues me as a large yellowfin tuna. God intrigues me as an ocean sunfish. God intrigues me impossible inscription and I inscribe illuminated manuscript (shoot from the hip / shoot as a hipster and shoot the hipsters). God intrigues me in fires in fires and fires within fires. God intrigues me fuck with fires and up the guts.

Universe perpetually creates Christ and Cross / Christ crosses universe and universe makes re/mixed marshes and swamps, and the sulfur and fiery ghosts flash new creativity

Universe translates and rotates harmony of the spheres: universe coalesces / converges bells together one sound chamber in which the sound of both horns (both hands) interact and intersect Universe never isolates but gathers god sounds and the sounds intrigue me because they sing the name Christina: I phrase her name so it creates a continuous sound

//
Universe sounds god / god sounds intrigue me

(Back and forth theology / metaphilosophy / divine ethics back and forth divine names)

I phrase the sound of continuous names and I name the name of her name. Her name intrigues me and I name her name heteroglossia / heterogeneous names.

I phrase the sound as continuous void and continuous apocalypse. Perhaps I’m doomed after all.
Big body apocalypse accidental anchor language body
I feel doomed you know. Inevitable apocalypse. Repeated apocalypse / it’s not dark yet but it’s getting there.
Back and forth fork theology – this twin thesis til this philosophy –
sunrise indistinguishable rhythms

Universe perpetually creates doom / back and forth bath Book certain apocalypse. I phrase the sound of the name discontinuous (the four instruments in unison imitate songs and trumpets – the first six trumpets of the apocalypse – followed by various disasters, the trumpet of the seventh angel announcing the consumation of the mystery of God).

The universe perceptually creates dreamlands dreaming the universe dreams (I’m writing about it right now. Thinking about dreams and apocalypse. You were in two layers of my dreams the past night. I had your dreams – I had a dream with you in it – and I had a false awakening and I told the second Asia that I had a dream about her…)

(Marin: If I was a seagull, I would fly as far as I could! I would fly to faraway places and sing for many people! … If I wish to the Wind Fish, I wonder if my dream will come true…)

God as Wind Fish intrigues me. God in the heteroglossic unison of the apocalypse intrigues me. God in the third of the stars and the third of the oceans bloody and the third of the earth scorched intrigues me.

Apocalypse comes to me in dreams – dreamland mothlight – seven swans (I saw a sign in the sky seven horns seven horns seven horns I heard a voice in my mind I am Lord I am Lord I am Lord). Am I doomed? Probably. Probably. Probably with with width apocalypse. Probably.
//

Universe perpetually creates apocalyptic memory and doomsday memorywork
I remember I recollect I repeat
I recollect I repeat I remember
I repeat I remember I recollect
Repeat revolver room resolution / resistor key keystone octave key Krystal keystone khora

(Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakably Zhuang Zhou. But he didn’t know if he was Zhuang Zhou who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming that he was Zhuang Zhou. Between Zhuang Zhou and the butterfly, there must be some distinction. This is called the Transformation of Things.)

Universe perpetually creates and I remember you about for
You about for and who
Were her
I’m many doing had
In writing people as dreamt
Two about if he he
I remember and I recollect and I repeat perpetual creation / perpetual dream and apocalypse (apocalypse intrigues yellowfin tuna and ocean sunfish and dreaming fires)

Universe Perpetually Creates

Universe perpetually creates     Universe perpetually creates Christ and Cross / Christs and Crosses     Universe machines marsh match minutes sulfur sassafras shimmer saffron surgical south

Universe bells together.  One sound chamber in which the sound of both horns interact and intersect (I phrase things so that creates a continuous sound / I phrase things creating a continuous sound / I phrase sounds continuous continuously).

Universe perpetually creates plastic spacial and rhythmic systems system sound     (Plastic spatial and rhythmic system obtained by the conjugation of simultaneous movement of rotation and translation of the plane and from the movements of the translation of the plane to one side)

The universe perpetually creates and the music moves and changes by itself like the weather

I create but the creating contradicts.  My creativity contradicts my creativity, and I currently create in the wrestling of creation.  I create in the collapse of my creating: creating collapses into my brain black hole and dream void (world collapse and composite: Ben Woman collapse and composite).  I create in the King Kong cudgel crashing into my skull collapses.  Universe perpetually creates but creation but creation fucks with my head.

Creation collapses into my Ben-Crater-Body
	Piano
	Five rocks from the beach
	a carport   a box   a teaspoon   a calculator
Creation collapses into Ben-Brine-Lake
	a carpet the carpet
	a box the box
	a teaspoon the teaspoon through the tall spoon table
	calculator decapitates


//
The universe perpetually creates but I cannot my body fails.  My body fails and I fail in the contradiction of creation – attempt to create anyway.  Create anyway.  

This – this twin twin this – this thread spread this     This thistle twisted thread spread this   (this palindrome this)

This – what is this – creation and collapse of creation – creation and collapse into creation (fail into this – fall into this)

This – this twin universe perpetually crates this     This palindrome this: this rhythm run out rhythm this     This I feel doom this doomed (impending apocalypse apocalyptic impending rhythm apparent apocalypse)
//


Universe perpetually creates