Content Warning: discussion of mental illness, suicide, and suicidal ideation


In the city, simultaneous time: city simultaneous bodies     (My city-body experiments death and death and dis/continuous death – my death and city death     My death dissociates simultaneous with the city)     In the city, simultaneous time and the city becomes in time synchronized stresses (city stresses dead city sung psalms)

Simultaneous in the city simultaneous     City stresses simultaneous dead city suns psalms / unstressed psalm palm tree garden     Psalm city city-body gardens dead: this is where time becomes space and this is where time insists space
	City city
	City gate for the dead perpendicular out of horror
	City gate is open sesame sons of seth
	City of the mutilated
Simultaneous city stresses dead and stresses sheol / serpentine labyrinth
	City of my unconsciousness doesn’t belong amid among write down written
	Write down written against again begin behind beyond behind begin
	Begin begin again aged against begin to write begin
	Begin to write begin to write rope writing rope 
	Wire write quote wrote word wore begin to write rope writing

Palm Tree Garden stresses this is where time becomes space: this is where time insists city space
	City quote wrote word wore big skirts and dresses
	City circle circles conclave
	Concave and the banshees of his abandoned city

In the city time becomes visible – visible time and visible space
	Conscious city clue cow cunt cunt crib fun cent chit cunt cube
	Cube cube cunt cunt city and city and city body horror 
	City body horror one cool element intone tuner tube turn back to 
	work on what I am where you want out of horror movies
	You want of you to Galilee with you is a beautiful girl in your practice and
	I think it would probably be a friend can I talk to me is expressed by my love
In the city, simultaneous time: time decay body and time disintegrate body and that erode not-my-body but non-existent dead


//
(It is difficult to overstate the significance of the house)

I know my body house: I know my body houses     “To know” – to recall house and recollect house and identify house and the house grows into the unusual city (horrific city – to know city horrifying)     I know my body decayed house and welcome to the dead house     I know my bodies grind house and gore grind city, and the city always sees in the surreal     City sums surreal and secretes surreal

(And if we were to dissect the house, we would find ourselves a stomach, a throat, spine and eyes and eyes teeth and eyes sin and dreams and memories and a mouth to bite down)     I always have more to say and my mouth chatters a larger mouth.  My mouth dissects the house – an autodissection of my own body – and my body reveals furniture and fire places and staircases     My mouth bites down on the larger mouth, my horse anatomy and my cave anatomy and I scrape the staircase cave walls for blind amphibians and albino fish     My house anatomy hides in my house body without organs, my bodies between the horror of horse homunculi

I bite my lips / hyenas and cheetahs leap out of the blood     I bite house holy holy holy my body decays waste land mars lander moon landing

(When a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth)     House decays / body horror decays     House devours decays / body house devours decay     House devours my decay, my disintegration anatomy re/written by Kitty Horrorshow

Every house is haunted and every body is haunted     I explore a suburban house, collect cassette tapes, study the physiology of domestic architecture

Houses.  I live in this house.  I belong to this house.  My decays calls house suicide hotlines and I die multitudes.  My deaths are quotations of other deaths: compact deaths intertextual deaths, remixed deaths (someone buried alive and suffocating to death, very far awake on the other side of the television screen).

My life entirely exists in television and decays in television – my life exists only television sustained screen pink beams.  I think I’m dead.  Or I’m already dead.  I’m already dead.  I only exist in the television.  I think I’m dead.  I do not exist.  Something exists but it’s not me.  It’s dead.  It’s missing missing dead.  Something exists but not me or I only exist in the Mouth House and House Hungry.  My house devours my house and my body devours body, a subtle and last supper suicides.

Hey Christina?  What do you do when you’re suicidal?  Like how do you deal with the feelings?  I notice them and give them their due, says C.  It’s not easy to want to be alive, so I want to honor the feelings.  At the same time, I remind myself that feelings are important but they’re just responses (not the real thing), she says.  Oh, I say.  Is it bad to take your own life?  Like if Ben took his own life today, is it bad?  In a broad sense, says C, it removes a Ben-shaped spot in humanity.  Humanity will go on but it will notice the absence.  To your friends and family, it will suck pretty bad.  But I won’t judge you.  I would just mourn you.  It will suck pretty bad for you? I say.  Of course!  I don’t have many friends you know.  You keep me tethered to humanity a lot of time.  But that’s just selfish thinking on my part, she says.  […]  I figure the intrusive thoughts are bipolar stuff, because it’s really suicidal thoughts, I say.  Like go crash your car, go kill yourself, you might as well kill yourself, at random intervals.  That sounds shitty, says C.  For me, it’s more like “How nice would it be if I didn’t have to do any of this again?”  That’s somewhat better, I say.  That’s more passive aggressive.  Maria Bamford has a joke about learning suicidal ideation was one of her husband’s and her favorite pastimes separately, says C.  They finally said it aloud during COVID, she says.  Have you seen Louie CK’s stand up on suicide? I say.  “I like life.  I don’t need it.  I would be fine without it… Do you know how much I like life?  I have never killed myself.  That’s how much I like it with a razor thin margin... It’s an option though… The whole world is made of people who didn’t kill themselves today.  That’s who’s here.”  Yeah, I like most of Louie CK’s takes on how much he values life, says Christina.  The show was really good about illustrating it.  I was thinking about Virginia Woolf today, I say, and how she wrote my favorite suicide note.  It’s fantastic.  Brings me to tears in the right mood… I’ve been thinking about suicide today.  Not suicidal ideation.  But the act itself.  I feel Virginia Woolf, I guess.  Someday I will reach a point where “I fought against it but I can’t any longer.”  I would be there’s a point I give up fighting to survive.  So I’m just thinking about that point in the future, I say.  I think about it a lot, says Christina.  I think maybe similarly.  Kindred, I say.  That’s why I asked you today.  I knew you understood.  I feel OK about it though, says C.  It’s much better than when I used to be afraid of death or Jesus coming back.  Yes, Kindred, she says.  Kindred understands in a way that Pando doesn’t, I say.  That doesn’t mean Asia is less sympathetic or less for me or hasn’t gone through traumatic events, etc.  You just understand in a way where if I died, you’d understand in a way Asia would not…
I have a poem that relates to this.  From “Wanting To Die” by Anne Sexton:
But suicides have a special language
Like carpenter’s they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.
Asia would ask why build.  You would not.  Absolutely, says Christina.  I have trouble understanding people who don’t at least think about the tools.  I feel drawn to understand the line, she says.  Some more favorite Louis CK quotes, I say.  “Life can be very difficult, very sad, very upsetting.  But you don’t have to do it.  You really don’t have to.  You don’t have to do anything because you can kill yourself.  You can do that once… Running away won't solve your problems, that’s true.  But killing yourself solves all your problems.  It even solves world problems, for you.”
I’m still here.  I choose not to kill myself today, I say.

I don’t.  I don’t exist – not here not anywhere.  I don’t but the repetition of death and non-existence: repeated wheres and repeated whens and when serves death and nonexistence (not time not body repeated patterns hazards not time not body but be-shaped ben hinnom).  Time out of mind time out of joint jags non-existence.  My bodies do not exist – no self – but carpenters and tools.  Chaos and chemical chaos non-existence but carpools.  I do not I do not choose chaos.  I do not my it’s not no close door.

I’m not real unreal and I’m not sure my vocalization, and I don’t vocalize the vowels but my voice disappears     I disappeared / deterritorialization      The – my – mine – voice disappears deterritorialization the voice my voice     The voice my voice disappears delirium

I don’t I don’t
//


In the city, simultaneous time: city simultaneous     The city becomes in time: this is where time becomes space and this is where time insists time
	City again quote cube out city 
	City begin
	City cunt of gate behind quote you for beyond
	City wrote city to the behind word and Galilee dead
	Begin wore city with perpendicular begun begin and you out again

In the city, simultaneous time
	City is of ages and body a horror against dressers horror beautiful
	City again
	City one girl gate begin circle cool in is two circle elements you open write conclave 
          in practice sesame begin concave tune and sons to and tune I of write the tube 
          think Seth rope banshees turn it
	City writing of back would of rope his to probably the wire abandoned work be 
          mutilated write eyes
	Conscious on a
	City quote city what friend of wrote clue I can my word cow at I consciousness