Content Warning: brief mentions of suicide and emotional abuse


I condense color:  I condense color color cubist     I collect color and I arrange color cube cute     Cube cut queer cute cataract to cataract and cataclysm to cataclysm: I collect baroque orange apocalypse

I condense color color compact mauve membranes     I keep color pink from the corner and I couple collected fluorescent light tubes     I tape light bulbs together mixtape human bodies

Art acts odd anarchy, a sort of unidentified flying object or cryptid sighting sighting that streams stampedes into my brain bashed by amoebas and amphibian meningitis

I sell art stella by starlight / the marooned soldier and the fighting girls of stalingrad     I clip art clean colour then colour coupled compact / human body cassette tape     Tape loops long light strike star stippled surfaces

ben body crayon curves canvas celluloid eclipse / camera conic sections

I cover my body in medium purples pinwheel gospel of mark: gospel of matthew golden ratio radio gargoyles

Ghoul green gods glue ghosts grass assemblages

Paintings with light colours sell more quickly than paintings with dark colours

(I experience an intense deja vu sensation writing the previous line: it’s certainly possible I’ve copied it before in a different context months ago, but I now relish in repetition     Repetitions reveal apocalypse orange rinds and pomegranate remainders     I experience the open orchard through the ritual of repetition)

Paintings with light colors sell more quickly than paintings with dark colors

I paint dark desert / I paint light labyrinth     I forget to sell but I still paint

Sell selling solar eclipse cyclops     Sell seed celluloid starfish beach shore massacre     Beach sow sandbar snow starfish and sand dollars     Sell she sells sea shells by the sea shore     Sea shell show snell’s law

Sell sea side spur sell cell seaside sparrows     Sell sea slope slow sea slug paints salt     I paint salt desert slow skin soul-funk / future beaches (I listen to the song Snowbirds and Townies by Further Seems Forever:  Fountains and fluorescent lights the season has come the snowbirds are crowding the nights   The townies are tired of their beaches and bars being packed so tight   The bridges and traffic and in this selecting their flight…     In my nostalgia, I recall watching soapy WB – now CW – television like Dawson’s Creek and Roswell, and later watching Gilmore Girls with Christina     I realize I feel the last nostalgic I’ve ever been because I do not feel fond of my past behavior and transgressions     I feel healthier and in better relationships now, despite my anxieties and mental illness)

Sell seaside storm surge seaside sparrows     Sell sea slate sing sea slug salt pigment     I apply pigment as salt last supper and supper stews soul-funk flesh     I stain canvas soul-funk pigment fat infatuated / fat funk groove human flesh flat anarchy     Flat canvas anarchic revive beach sheets

Sometimes selling out is waking up     Sometimes selling out is waking up we take ourselves too seriously we sneak in as many politics as we can but who will be last to realize that sometimes selling out is waking up

I sell out over under other     I sell nothing not even this language and I laugh these languages absurd storm drag claw catastrophe     Absurd massages language lobster telephone or desert dragon   desert dragon queen mongolian death worm languages     I amp absurd silver age language fat cat batarang: language lamppost pile passages aporia     I lip sync leviathan liturgy augment absurd tiamat triads     I strike tiamat triads trine taryn the turk tetragrammaton     Last supper lathes sea star sapphires: sea tangle sea steps

Sell bell cell gel gall gut gnosis     Sell ring them bells monastery cells shells quill clatter     I clatter clang moral kiosk catechism     I kiss catechism cataclysm coupled light colors colors

My coteacher is getting a divorce, don’t know if that’s something you want to talk about though, says Asia.  That's a bummer, I say.  I’m OK talking about it if you want to and need to express thoughts about it.  It’s just wild because this is the second person I know in the past few months that was in a situation where the man threatened to kill himself when the woman said that they were unhappy in the relationship, says Asia.  Both situations they were offered chances or couples therapy and the guys refused.  In this situation, the man told her that he didn’t need therapy: she was the one with issues not him, says Asia.  I feel bad for her I say.  I will say as someone who has been both suicidal and emotionally abusive in the past with my relationships, it’s a shitty thing.  There’s a lot of self-hatred and self-destruction and I feel like: I want someone to save me from myself.  But there’s no one who can save me.  What I mean is, my friends love me, but that doesn’t help me because I don’t love me.  I feel in the past when I was suicidal, I was abusive with that self-hatred with others.  I try really hard not to do that now.  Even if I do feel suicidal, I try not to be in a place where I say:  live for me, save me, I say.  I know that you try hard, says Asia.  I think you’ve been doing a good job, she says.  Thanks.  I feel even though I have been spiraling a lot recently, I have noticed our friendship remains a lot more steady and secure despite this.  There is nothing morally around about having suicidal ideation, says Asia.  But there is something messed up about weaponizing it against people who care about you.  I don’t get it, she says.  I agree with you, I say.  And I know I have done that in the past.  But you learned and grew, says Asia.

Subjects that sell well: madonna and child, landscapes, flower paintings, still lifes (free of morbid props – dead birds, etc), nudes, marine pictures, abstracts and surrealism

I do not simplify the subject but sign subject strange     Strange subject jabs sorcery, a madonna and child magic     Magic improvises modal over milestones: sign stone human

Subject splits bottomless pit: abyss alice abyss

I study subject – the general concept of subject and not just painting subjects that sell well – and I subject subject to the subjected accented and against rhythm     Subject stabs secret rhythm / horn hits hell honey     Subject shadow casts center subject acentered  An acentered subject subject sells well the exterior form of a rupture and redoubling     I double study body double pentateuch doublets     I steady study subject – my subjects repeat interjections and interrogations

I subject the subject to odd interrogation (gatling gun hunter-gatherer acentered     Acenter accents cut coupled colors concentric circles)

I study subject subjective and injective harmonic partial orgasms     Modes of the harmonic minor improvise over madonna masonry / free mason free jazz

The Madonna appears to me vision and she screams straight edge with minor threat

Subject scalar shows speed speed shred ten-speed bicycle     Subject resembles blacksmith’s gunpowder smithereen anvil chorus     Chorus screams chainsaw madonna noise pedal point millipede / velocipede

I install reality in a form of bricolage out of available materials

I recast deliberate meteorite into accidental meteorite / heavy iron stone landscape     I toss coins and recast Man in the High Castle with a deliberate tarot Madonna and Child     The Madonna carries her meteorite and mirror / I recast meteorite into mirror sword shekinah skekinah subject

I pull a new major arcana from an undreamed tarot deck and it reveals Meteor / intermedia black materia     Meteor mutates my body madonna meteorite     Meteorite rips irregular rhythm more regular / Lady Madonna children at your feet   wonder how you manage to make ends meet

Meteorite photogeological jump start jump cut chant streets by sandbars

Venereological vision vent vertical hairlessness

Vision melting nesses pressurizes stretched-cut dorsiflection

Divine Invasion veers vulpine turnpike venous return     Divine Invasion smears vulpine and sometimes one came here to my window, attracted by my light, barked a vulpine curse at me, and then retreated     Divine Invasion dig human heart hermit: hermit serpent hiss appear god god gulp ben body surf     god gulp stripes transformer ben surf between variety of invasions     Various invasion variegated plumb vapor: hevel shovel vapor workshed     I share the shed with various languages     My languages lagoon in vapor: sinuous snake crawling and symmetrical ben coral     Language lagoon asymmetrical: radial asymmetry divine invasion     I experiment fantastic flora florid counterpoint invasions agon and agon agent press against again dialectics (I nomad in dialectical desert and urgent desert draws body drop book emergent     I meander golden mean and golden spiral split through dialectics and desert devours invasive vapor / vulpine body)

God invades Book desert dislocation and ben body barchan disembarks dislocation     I keep the sabbath shared with serpents     I crescent-shape dunes draw dune patrol     I patrol desert perimeters / paranoid diaspora

Divine Invasion meanders strict then slack syntax and I pursue a dialectical language I word golden spiral

Either one grammar to support a variety of idiolects or a new system each time with new conditions to evolve through the novel universe: I choose both directions at once     I write a singular grammar and a new grammar simultaneous: simultaneous I carry my cross and die daily     I invade my own language both direction at once (I wouldn't know where to begin though.  There is no beginning: you start in the middle and work your way both directions at once)

I meander blue and green music and music invasion variety brew vertical     Contrasts shade woodshed variety vertical hard and soft edges     Near edge but not end, I jump meanders     I jump meander geometric forms forms foam kinetic rhythm and movement

I invade standing wave grammars / words kinetic constructions     I layer pigments as desert invasion and my voice cries out in the wilderness deliberate scratches on the surface on the film film unintelligible birth

I read this particular segment (end segment?  my past self who wrote down this segment did not make note of its location in the story) from “A Medieval Romance” by Mark Twain:

The remainder of this thrilling and eventful story will not be found in this or any other publication, either now or at any further time.  The truth is, I have got my hero (or heroine) into such a particular close place that I do not see how I am ever going to get him (or her) out of it again, and therefore I will wash my hands of the whole business, and leave the person to get out the best way that offers – or else stay there.  I thought it was going to be very easy enough and straighten out that little difficulty, but it looks different now…

I stew stuck stuck bitches brew: fusion but no passion and no human funk     Funk flails guerrilla skirmishes and scratched canvas dirty war but my word continues out the reach of romance     Word pressures me and I try to find all the connections and campaigns between words and languages and the rhizome romance overwhelms me     I fail to transform language into body funk and lived flesh experience     I experience my body full funk mobile animal anarchy     Full flesh funk antinomian an animism     An animism spills spirits spread sprite triangles tetragrammatons     Sprite triangle tetragrammaton iron girder gallop gillie suit / stations of the cross camouflage     Christina reacts connection chymistry camouflage crosses      I stew stuck several strands and I stick standard model polymeters / I stir Stygian stem cells stuck bitches brew     HeLa cells cob body horror / heretic hacksaw horror     Hacksaw horror I hovel book acid attack (I adams on my creative acid jazz and joyless orgasms     I abandon Book born on a bay on overused bog bodies     I use the bog and abandon the hidden myth aftermath     I animate aftermath radiations / I am the grass let me work)

Abandon book abandon ship you sunk my battleship

I abandon Book metathemes-mythemes-metafictions for raw materials material bare ugly: UGLY music concrete monopoles pulse bodies     Not against ugly but with ugly naked bus body / ben body bewilders befuddles, and confuses     Sometimes selling out is waking up I wake up desert word further desert      Further desert well hell blonde bunkers as found art and ribald readymades     Readymade marks ben bodies tunnel aerodynamic testing

I write wrought iron raw ugly     I write ugly rust never sleeps / I sleep rust loaded lavender   loaded lavender leviathan

I write raw ribcage exposed by napalm psalms     Exposed Book breton brut and art brut     Brut brute brawl bastards I venture desert hell     I venture further desert hell hosts here hell hospital / hell nag hag hyperreal     Hell hag no hope no fear fuck flesh haemoagglutination and I barf blood     Blood concrete write raw wraith writhe ice     Book hub hyperbrutalism now found gnosis

Book bar visible I-beams over windows / Book widows exposed brick inside and outside   outside other windows

I worship at winged windows: window pour concrete several rooms where tongue-and-groove broad patterns build forms visible     I worship visible windows through a scanner darkly

Now the window opens language bourbon neat benjamin     Window exposed my language and I create new window     Window exposes window ben brutalist / raw rhizome written and rewritten     Raw rhizome repetition writes and rewrites open window: my body ben-hinnom (I frequently wrestle with my creative process and the Book – I document this well in the Book and sometimes I tire of it as a theme     I aspire to create as John Coltrane or Igor Stravinsky continually searching for new expression and always experimenting     Re-invention and continual self-transformation isn’t easy and doesn’t end – then David Bowie released a non-significant number of bad albums     Write ugly when ugly, write beautiful when beautiful – but continue YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WRITES AND THE ONE WHO IS WRITTEN     No end – only writing and if lucky, transformations)

I pour windows liquid slag into the corners of the Book: on the corner window plastic window pusher     Pour concrete incomplete exposed wire: I write the wire winter music     Write exposed wire word wide matrix: matrix mixes tongue-and-groove patterns play water pour

Open window draw door transition: omen ouroboros amen     I take the transition and tack open windows and open parables to its exterior: Amen, I say to you, there is a no one who has given up house or wife or brother or parent or children for the sake of the kingdom of god who will not receive an overabundant return this present age and eternal life in the age to come

From where its roots run     From where its roots run sprawls rampant     Root refers and defers rhizome

I’ve lost my vision and I’ve lost my passion     John the Revelator writes to me:  I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary but I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first     The Vision and the love leave me vision vanish vacuum no room for them at the inn     (In 1976 I tried to kill myself because Elijah had left me.  I felt him leave and it was awful… There is nothing worse in the world, no punishment greater than to have known god and no longer to know him… The voices stopped talking to me… I didn’t care if I lived or died)

From where its roots run: no room for me at the inn     In inn invasion I ire interior to desert     Desert interviews invasions from where the roots run     I know that I hung in a windy tree nine nights, wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin, myself to myself, on that tree of which no man knows from where its roots run     Roots reach rhizome red rood and I interpret the tree of life upside down as the Cross of Christ     Roots crucify desert copy the coy bore of my cranium and skull scramble round dance of the cross

Tree troubles me trailing point punch punch poinsettia     Poinsettia clash clock punch performance art     Tree troubles me march seventeenth harassed by noise     Noise name unname marsh fifth three days in bed

Roots reach mystical rose / rose unreliable narrator the same dialectic

I lose my first love, the written dialectic desert diacritic / international phonetic alphabet adventures     (Apophatic three aqueous events ice water steam)

I lose my first love but in the divine invasion the game dialectic reappears     Not the polarities of god but the polarities of my prophecy and creative process:  that destructive negative solar heat warring word and the loving, playful, tender prophecy with bells and flowers (Albert Ayler Devil And Witches)     I’ve forgotten to play but she plays     She (KRYSXTRYN?  Asia Rhizome?) plays and I lost my first love of play     First love play passion roots rhizome my flesh reach rock cliff no roots but mycorrhiza

When language begins to break down a little bit, it becomes exciting

What unifies the two at last: play     What unifies Ben and Asia Rhizome: play     Play X Play: X plays plays aporia mystery / a passion for the impossible

Is writing about the writing different from the writing itself? I say.  Yes, says Asia.  In what ways?  Because if you are writing, you aren’t writing the same thing as the writing itself, she says.  I am thinking about the activity of writing itself, I say.  Like that quote I showed you earlier that Bruce Nauman said:  If he did something in the art studio, it became part, including the process of making art itself.  What if I’m just writing one giant book, one that even reflects its own process of coming into being? I say.

(What do you call the wife of a hippie?  Mississippi, I say.  You can’t use the same word, says Christina.  Maybe, what do you call a counterculture mom?  She says.  What do you call your best friend who critiques your very funny joke? I say.  A cunt.  LOLOLOL, says C.)

I lack play and I lack passions / Spirit of Elijah leaves me     I lack a passion for the impossible but I search for it through the process of writing

Is that all?  That is all.  Is there no expression of the mystery of the Haunted Hotel?  Ask yourself if there is any explanation of the mystery of your own life and death – farewell.

Minimal mystery     Minimal mystery: maximal mystery   mystery of material     Mystery maximum transition     Transition interstitial polystyrene     Transition eyelid intestines     Transition eyelid sour cream stomach     Distressed transition burns department store star ash     Transition dead departure invalid litter detective story     Story starmen steppe stimmung / stalactite testicles

Maximal mystery motorhead migration     Migration medicine ball blast cap     Inconsistent protohistory materials mast material: light tower case study blizzard book shelves     Blizzard butter batters mystery psychohistory and psychogeography     Mystery massage massacre gospel message minerals     Mystery mop language marge eight songs for mad king     Maxwell murder mystery mystery marquis de sade