I Note Her Name And I Grieve Her Name

Who knows?  Something valuable in these notes?  

I note her name and I grieve her name     I name Christina chrism stations of the cross     I note the sequenza of my language to explain the deep grief I feel over Christina’s absence in my life and her easy disappearance reveals again Christ crucified / god is dead     Only when God is dead can Being begin in every Now, writes Thomas J.J. Altizer     I pronounce the name of God as the Death of God and the absence of Christina reinscribes the crucified and dead Christ     I live in the Holy Saturday: I live in the tomb still occupied by the body of Jesus

I sometimes – or often – feel Christina was the one who got away – what a banal and hysterical thought     I don’t allow myself to have such cliché and romantic thoughts, but Christina (and the absence of Christina) always reveals my romantic     I abandon my romantic for my experimental (I am large; I contain multitudes)     Christina always unexpectedly erupts into the text romantic and banal and I choose to document the intrusions

I’m using modes now because I’m trying to get more form in the free form… I’d like to play something – like the beginning of “Ghosts” – that people can hum

I listen to Albert Ayler “Ghosts” and Taylor Swift’s “The 1” / Who knows?  Maybe something valuable in these notes?

I note names without names and her name nectars absence     Her name noodles Ghosts using modes and holy ghost free improvisation     I note names without names her name nebulous ambiguous abyss     I note her names now without names nebulous numbers and I number her name prime numbers and twin prime conjecture (Her name injects a triad pythagoreanism and name now neo-pythagoreanism)     I number notes not then her names not knot Christina desert double knot     No name but her name and something valuable in these notes

I note ox ox black sox open ocean     I note ox outdoor odd oil and I add oil ox outdoor damn drink skating rink     I rink ring note not near her names transformed into numbers

I use modes now because I try to get more form in the free form     I form a writing open New York School and Earle Brown December 1952     I fill fly fixed modules with idiosyncratic mixtures of notation

I use modes now and I name the mixture of materials note open open ocean     I divide the past into material and I divide materials into numbered events / named events     I name event eventual series

I simultaneously free myself from the Book with more constraints and less constrained both directions at once

In taking these notes, I’m trusting myself to the banality that is in me, writes Roland Barthes     Bethlehem births banal ben hinnom     I slouch toward Bethlehem and build banal staircase banister / stair barcode codex     Nag Hammadi Codex names banal ben hinnom     Hinnom winnows homing missile / missile mystery X mystery     I winnow hinnom word walk window drawings

I draw a straight line and walk on it     I learn lines as lewd laughter      I learn lines lake laughter loud cloud loch ness     I line now loch ness notches nested polyphony     I seldom draw notes but scale the alphabet mosquitos     I seldom draw spoons but spoon spool moon thread taryn (taryn textures tunnel turtles taryn towers sea: tea atonal tuft truck bodies     Bodies tap tape axe bodies my altered face altar)     I seldom draw spoons but the spoon appears moon speed sea of reeds     Sea of reeds speeds spoons ben hinnom blacksmithing (I blacksmith sheets of sound body sonar zero dagger)

I seldom draw but search spool speech: any thread taryn ter taryn tuned to my bones     Thread bone drone draw     I draw drone oval orphan work and I work apparitions     I work Christina’s ghost modal mixed Albert Ayler’s Ghosts and I hum melody drone bone developing variations     I work additional apparitions name ghost drones / ghosts spiral Taryn on tour hauntology

I look language apparitions      I look language Taryn transit transitions: ghosts jump cut language collage     Ghost collage clash play (Play with the open mouth and with full but diffuse respiration – as if your breath were cut off)

I seldom draw and I draw neither bird nor ornament but an ouroboros improvisation     I improvise bird ben birds and birds bodies ben     Birds bird bodies ben blue bathers     Birds burst hearse cursed bodies: bodies heat castle catacombs killed krill newspapers     I draw the newspaper and I fold newspapers into ocean ouroboros     Newspaper arrange pod cave aporia invasion of the body snatchers

I become aware of the Book as experiment and exploration and I become aware of Christian Missing and Christina Empty Tomb but I do not witness her resurrection     I do not witness her transformed body (What is sown is perishable, what raised is imperishable… It is sown a physical body and raised a spiritual body)     As often what happens in methodologically significant events in my life, I find the Exegesis of Philip K. Dick a touchstone and an island desert of resonance, and I see parallels between how he talks about his twin sister and how I grieve for Christina:

[39:19]  Creation is mind – i.e. Brahman.  But beyond that mind (noös) is brain: her.  Yet she also exists in microform plural in our world.  This is the hermetic “as it is above so below”.  You have to assemble the religions they’re individually pieces.  So one encounters her as human.  I’m just saying, Christ is female.  She is ultimately Beauty:  Helen of Troy who hatched from an egg.  And of course most of all she is my sister.  I am a thought in my sister’s mind…

Christina, my sister, continues to write the Book, my own exegesis     Christina, the female Christ, assembles religions rhizomes rhizomes / she’s not here for she has risen     Christina, my sister, continues to write the Book separate and not separate from the Book / most young kings get their heads cut off     Separate serpents simply cut catastrophes (ben cooked bone     ben bone the raw and the cooked)     I cook bone bent straw hell mouth map magma     I cook book more magma music new complexities     Book more more bone ox eek earth etch / I seldom draw spoons but the moon mourns ben hinnom     Malchut morras ben hinnom hint hush hauntologies

Christina haunts twin sisters and twin primes and Christina kisses the cross empty calf stranded across the creek     Christina kisses ghost calf creek chorus stranded choir     Ghosts strand stand saw ice calves calves coils castles / castle cool cathedral     Christina haunts twin sisters church coffins and my Book of Sand as coffin cools often bodies     Calf strands star jelly fish streams or salmon storms     Her calf soaks stand stone cork cane coffin cadillac (Christian cadillac drives my hauntological Christianity)     Christian calf strands cadillac stranded: stand Shelby Cobra some coal sodom and gomorrah

Yet she also exists in microform in our world… so one encounters her as a human     I encounter Christina as human: I encounter Christina as Christian     The Woman of the Cross draws spoon serpents separate and not separate from the Book

Christina my sister sews several strings inharmonic serpents     Sister severs strings hacksaw serpents swim (skim shim skin swim) spirals     Her serpent spirals finnegans wake work a thousand plateaus

I work a thousand plateaus play a thousand parousia (I experiment every iteration and repetition of the apocalypse)     I work a thousand plateaus calf ragged ranges ben bellowing / ragged ranges calf rhizomes domain of desert

Her gospel displaces and the place I’m from is no longer on any map     Her gospel displaces desert and the Book of the Desert maps nonexistent     I seek and I continue seeking new gospels: her gospel sister cauldron immediate rhizome     The place I’m from is no longer on any map and when I find, I become troubled     (I map parables and the passion on no map but the place displaces desert     I repeat the desert overextends the map and devours)

The place from no longer exists the map     From the place, no map and map chews open mouth     The place from no longer but shorter body fat duration     (Map most desiring-machines machine flesh fragments)     No maps map margins machines desert distance     margins map body white fish scale surface / scale map butterfly wings

The place I’m from is no longer on any map and one encounters her as a human     Christian the Human One appears on no map but displaces any firm place and I play unsteady serpent chaos     I play unsteady chaos Christ and Serpent Christina / I am a thought in her mind

Near Neither None Dark Desert

Desert music and desert melody maps my body gnostic gospels     Desert music mer magazine labyrinth textile lights or fireflies and the looping sand codex crosses my body many crypts

Desert transforms as constant contaminated flesh function and its musics mutate maps bodies skeletons bonfires

I prophesy desert ox oracle bone     I prophesy desert oracle bone bold flesh telephone     I telephone font mytheme Taryn Theater

I feel in ghosts: ghosts desert and ghost pedal point     Pedal point presses play ghosts, the music in meandering melodic fragments

I feel flesh font phantoms     I prophesy flesh font fount phantom ghost phalanx: phalanx shank shake snake telephone font     I feel ghost type and ghost tape and a phantom camera clamps bone shatter

Sometimes I need to be alone and listen to Thelonious Monk     Alone I listen to Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane and Carnegie Hall     I listen slow sheets of sound serious sleep

Slower I prophesy simultaneous ghosts     I deliver slow ghost desert globule gospels     I grasp gospel neither bird nor ornament but ouroboros     I wrestle gospels neither bird nor ornament but lizard ostinato     Slow ostinato narrates sand lizard soda glass gas giants     (giant jump surreal blues     gas jump god inland empire)

Near neither, bird ben body monody: monody modal mystery plays, a plane play initiations

Near neither none dark desert     (I tour desert dark detour)     Near neither or ostinato nor, bladed birds body rhythms     I improvise birds tenor saxophone solo and peacock melody tines neither antiopera monodrama: drama desert melodic

Bird ben body without organs narrative trace train tracks and wolf tracks / scavenger bodies

She sound bodies hyena     She sound bodies razor hone neither leather tones

I bring birds and frequently listen to Albert Ayler     Ayler wails hyena holy ghost and I grieve double desert double death (I studied musical composition in college, and Christina told me she had cancer: I thought we would both die and I worked on a composition called the Double Requiem for Voices and Orchestra     It wasn’t very good like this writing isn’t very good but I didn’t know how else to grieve except through creation     I create badly but at least I create)

Desert tones tan tangent total roll Taryn     Desert tones ten tur tern turn tonality     Desert tonality tunes trim trace pantonality / apophatic atonal     Homophonic textures trail detached monophony

Sometimes I need to be alone and I listen to Thelonious Monk

Alone and I listen read lights of varying intensities     (Who knows?  Maybe something valuable in these notes?)     Alone I note deserts doubled deserts

I note names without names     I note names now without names name numbers     (I adapt movements in multiple ways)     I number notes not neither or birds name Taryn     No name now but something valuable in these notes not ox but ostinato ouroboros

I listen to Albert Ayler “Ghosts” and Taylor Swift’s “The 1” and I reminisce all the time Christina but it would've been fun if you would’ve been the one


Conversations With Asia 08/16/2020 7:35 AM

I’m listening to Taylor Swift’s new album, says Asia.  How do you like it? I say.  I have only heard a couple songs – it takes me awhile to listen to the whole album, I say.  I’m currently listening to Cardigan, she says.  I’m digging it, like it’s definitely something I would play while cleaning the house.  Her pop albums are a guilty pleasure of mine, I say.  Someone made a mash-up album of her and Aphex Twin and I love that album.


(The mash-up album is called Aphex Swift and it was done by David Rees and released on SoundCloud in 2014)

Who knows?  Something valuable in these notes

In My Grief, I Seek Differently

Now I experiment announced and announced: annunciation of my heap of languages     Languages shepherd outwards wild word and I experiment my mess wild women lighthouse     Lighthouse works lights ligaments and ligatures

In my grief, I seek differently     I seek differently and let him who seeks continue seeking until he finds     I find unfinished fire differently     In my grief, I experiment fragmented modular modal odd repetition (to get anywhere with this to discard or repeat the desert)     My grief jars discontinuous

I increase chatter: taryn chattering teeth     I increase chatter increasing function flatworm flesh flat     I place platform flatworm flesh fugue burned fragrances / I place or play perfume playground     I partake perfume flash platypus playground increase chatter     Increased chatter kill child of humanity     I increase ambiguous human languages long duration chatter

I chatter human languages and god languages: the same language     I chatter stations of the cross and when I find, I will become amazed     I repeat stations of the cross and cross chatters place of the skull sketch bone scaffolding     I pronounce the body of the cross

I chatter cross reserved for pronounced sounds / for which no pronunciation exists     I pronounce play as PROCESS and process as PLAY     I play flatter rate my face sloped strange south or southern gothic no gap     I pronounce prime gap tooth gap gum play     I pronounce a pesky and persistent horror / pine pore pour pestilence

I chatter cross reserved for pronounced sounds / human body for which no pronunciation exists     I pronounce ambiguous aporia: not approach but cliff     I clear cliff claw bodies can categorized bodies

I hammer human bodies son of man permutations and I play permutations and process     I play its unpronounceable permutations and the vowels hammer human vertical     I pronounce human hard bop the theme tape permutations

I pronounce sheets of sounds audible frictions and permutations / it’s not filler, it’s exploration

I explore my grief haphazardly and discontinuously

My writing is such a mess, I say.  Any advice?  Give yourself some time, says Asia.  I’ve found that sometimes, when you are going through a significant and impactful event, it can be difficult to write about it while you are still going through it.  You sometimes don’t have the right perspective because you are still in it and what you do manage to write doesn't seem to capture the scope of it.  Outside of trying to transcribe that specific feeling, it can be hard to write or create in general, so be patient and be kind to yourself, says Asia.

I explore my grief haphazardly and discontinuously, and often indirectly – if I contact this real, this kontakte real rhizome, it might destroy me completely     I work and grieve a discontinuous stations of the cross

It’s not filler, it’s exploration     Explore   implore   four-score   gap ground   row round   rib cage   Johnny Cage   cage crash cataclysm

I grieve discontinuous crash bandicoot it’s not filler it’s exploration     explore human flesh large sound long lore more sound     Explore loud sound lunar landing moto mobile module

I chatter mobile     I grieve mobile mirror     I chatter mobile meteor mirror     I explore mirror mobile map map experiment     I map mirror murmur micropolyphony     I explore micropolyphonic photograph graphomania / manic local maximum     I explore loop manic local maximum it’s not filler it’s exploration     Explore gospel of mark and explore secret gospel of mark manic sheets of sound sonar gospels

I pronounce my body secret name     I came to my body through interrogation of the Book     I confront my face through questioning the Book     I write the Book with wounded words     I rewrite the Book with worded wounds and my wounds helicopter transparent words

I pronounce the Tetragrammaton as written     I pronounce the Yod Hay Vav Hay with Sabbatai Sevi vowels (vowels volt vertical visions)     I pronounce hermetic as heretic and an apostate / apostolic archegrammar     I pronounce gospel without sound: gospel for which no pronunciation exists

I pronounce ox     I pronounce an ox an open   an ox orion open orchestra     I pronounce ox oak orchestra open bone book battery     I ore ox or battery ox ore from open bone bas of bones     Bone bat ox ox or tail talon owl open Taryn     Ox open syllabic verse paste place place absurd     I slant south syllables: I face syllable sign stress ox rock rhizome     I slant face south punch stone sling syllable     I sway sling ring slant: I slant swing syllable soft syncopated line length     I lengthen bone light lengthen lit lap chair char rare: I side chair sit rare red length

I lengthen bone metal music – something like Tom Waits’ Bone Machine shakes stone skin she’s such a scream     I lengthen human figure hammer: a human music     I lengthen bone music images mirrored mirages

I explore my human grieving and I grieve the god-Christina discontinuous     I explore Christina cursive, the legato pronunciation of her names     I pronounce her names sounds musics and I mirror musics map mirages / Las Vegas signified sound hypersigils

Writing and reading and opening the Book: all inscribe with wounded words and wide word voids

With wide, I work void death's write shadow     White shadow without shadow sways secret syllable: I speak her syllables subterranean sigil     With wide death, her desert shadow strings my hastily sketched body / body bound Book body unbound Book

I pronounce without pronunciation protean and prometheus     I pronounce the Book as simultaneous blessing and cruse     I pronounce the book sinus rhythm sinus tachycardia cardiac arrest aporia

Death inscribed prior to my birth begins Book (I pronounce unpronounceable Book with hidden tetragrammaton)

Death with death dig inverted desert dome dome shadow dome shadow     I speak shadow syllables free jazz shout choruses / short improvisation holy ghosts

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form… I’d like to play something – like the beginning of “Ghosts” – that people can hum.  And I want to play songs like I used to sing when I was real small.  Folk melodies that all people will understand.  I’d use those melodies as a start and have different simple melodies going in and out of a piece.  From simpler melody to complicated textures to simplicity again and then back to the more dense, the more complex sounds…

I frequently listen to Albert Ayler and I interpret the mode and texture as a modular open writing and anarchic mobile writing     I write open holy ghost New York school or Earl Brown December 1952     I frequent fixed modules through often idiosyncratic mixtures of notation

I divide the page into material and I divide material into numbered events / eventual series     I meander mode to open modes more form into the free form and more human form into the free form     I free myself from the Book through constraints and light light limits

He who seeks, let him no cease seeking until he finds; and when he finds, he will be troubled

I seek a periodic leap of language that languishes radioactive     (In my craft or sullen art     exercised in the still night)

I seek in my craft, melody: craft raft rift written melody reinterpreted     I interpret the melody you are the one who writes and the one who is written     I seek a melodic craft shifts rift written sand sound (I sound fire melody and free melody low light momentum)     I craft rift shift sound funk and soul     I seek and sometimes find funk and soul shift sound syntax

I seek syntax crafts stitch strut flat scaffolding / I craft enjambs craft sift slow row     I row craft Book rows towards god     God graft gas gift gown drown body down melodic ghosts

I listen to Albert Ayler Ghost and Taylor Swift’s “The 1”     I sleep somewhat sand nostalgic and I dream Christina it wouldn’t been fun if you would’ve been the one     I sleep somewhat sand snow nostalgic russian nesting

Secret Gospel Pages Jammed Into Cave Walls

It becomes long, deep; it widens, extends, narrows

Ben adam becomes body without organs broad black     Become becomes ben broad brushstrokes body without organs and flesh flows delirium fire fluid / body horror phantasmagoria     I pass from one code to another and I deliberately scramble all codes: snake shift serpent question queer sands shocked quartz earth core pig destroyer corridors     Quicksand shift body slits never giving the same explanation from one day to the next, never invoking the same genealogy, never recording the same event in the same way

I drink deep     Drink deep dark I delirium     Dark delivers deep drive I delirium     I drink deep deliberate scrambles all codes crow cross     Crow cross decode desert drinks delirium deep bodies bolo birch branch rhizome

I drink deep and become between     ben body become between bath horror     Bath horror blue horror human heart cave mouth (nude blue darkness of the letters)     Nude blue darkness of the letters crown car bodies / adonai acid western automobiles     Cave mouth maws dead mall playground / god nude blue darkness of the letters

I drink deep crown letters orgiastic orchard     Deep crown letters Christina pomegranate torture garden     Garden swims spleen splutter assorted human horrors / I drink deep disorganized human horrors / I drink deep disorganized human horrors     Deep discogrind body gore grind/ zamboni bark bones     Bark bones bow nude blue darkness of the letters and letters listen listless dark light     Lightless light flirts orgiastic orchard (lighthouse original orchard open bone orchard)

Orchard ochres peacock feathers     Orchard wonders dark delirium underneath peacock feathers     Flesh feathers cave mouth flux

My mouth motions bone orchard cave ochre     Bone orchard omnivore devours drink dark

The documentation of her body is the power of the body / nude blue darkness of the letters

Letters loop lace body insect / I document my bodies incomplete metamorphosis

ben bodies become long deep and I drink deep length     Drink deep length live delirium / before abraham was born, I am     ben bodies bow machine deep clocks, turbines, dynamos, celestial machines, house-machines cave mouth grouse      ben bodies drone dark: fragment dark drone bone     Drone bone orchard heathers / heather heathen heretic

ben bodies oxbow nude blue darkness of the letters     bodies oxbow letters locust ben insect intensities     I inhale insects / locusts swim body dense cave mouth

Oxbow body diverse dark: dark long beetle intensities     Bodies flow cave mouth insects and I document the power of my body as babel insects     Babel beetles bore cave mouth body river mercury

I place myself in the cave: I enter the cave

I place myself cave chlorine     Chlorine cave carbon harbor hauntologies     Bone cave clavicle campfires phantom big cats and centipede sandcastles     Cave cloves cave big cat clave patterns / ben body bo diddly beat   ben body cave cricket bebop

Cave bone orchard orbits big cat cranium     Cave cat cardiovascular     Cave cat cardiovascular vermin cave countermeasure     Cave countermeasure countertenor / big cat tenor saxophone sabers     Exogene cave exceeds endogene cave excretes ben bodies     Word weathers cave sea caves / I wrestle cave weather     I wrestle woman cave erosion

Douglas Hofstadter wrote a book called Gödel, Escher, and Bach in the 1970s and it covers topics like Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorems, Escher’s artwork, and the musical counterpoint of J.S. Bach     One dialogue in the book even mimics a crab canon and it’s the same both forwards and backwards and yet it makes sense both ways     The overarching theme of the book is the idea of emergence – how chaotic and low-level activity creates patterns at higher levels     He feels this is the way consciousness works

“A strange loop is a cyclic structure that goes through several levels in a hierarchical system.  It arises when, by moving only upwards or downwards through the system, one finds oneself back where one started.  Strange loops may involve self-reference and paradox.  The concept of a strange loop was proposed and extensively discussed by Douglas Hofstadter in Gödel, Escher, Back, and is further elaborated in his book I Am A Strange Loop, published in 2007”

My themes of the Book:  Writing, Art, Woman, God – constantly intersecting, interconnecting, and interrupting each other on multiple levels, reappearing again and again in new guises     Writing is not a linear process and I write nonlinearity transparently     When someone reads the Book, they can see the process happening transparently and instantaneously and the reader participates in interpreting the entangled process happenings     I write instantaneous ink-wash paintings or modal improvisations on Kind of Blue

Word weathers cave sea wrestles rhizomes / haunted huntress bodies     Word weathers cave sea caves rock shears grottos     Grotto games peacock feathers flesh fast     I fast but grotto machines game body (perhaps all paintings are imperfect copies of Mona Lisa)

I gradually learn to freely experiment and allow myself to fail     Failures fills my flesh nude blue peacock feathers

Woman Word wrestles cave sea caves close so grottos / god grotto sacrifice of young girls     god grove grotto groove sacrifice of young girls / groundwater bodies     Word weathers word voids verb void cave voracious     Cave verb cave void (showing stalagmites, stalactites, and draperies by a pool in Lechuguilla Cave, New Mexico, USA)

I spelunk species counterpoint

I spelunk species counterpoint into which a stream sinks / from which a stream emerges / traversed by a stream

I become bare deep stream / bare subterranean bodies     I become bare length one of the world’s last great smokers     Streams smoke subterranean bodies upstream salmon (salmon strike my bare body cave stone fishers of men)     I become bare rag cave ragtime Taryn cave crags

I fear my memory as hidden hag cave crag / witch wheeled house on the haunted hell     I fear my ben bathos and sentimentality, and if I word Church of god with signs following, my lack of faith would serpent bite me     I handle this cave crag serpent and leg it bite me / its fang peacock feather flesh sprouts

I reminisce in cave dark knot nostalgia

My first slow dance: Leandra (Danielle)     I never called her Danielle – I name her Leandra and she remains her name Leandra     The only name Danielle I call Danielle: Elle     Elle no longer in my life but I love her always and I should have written her more     I should have documented our relationship deep long longer cave depths (the documentation of her body is the power of her body) (she photographs her body mirrors now monsters)     I loved her more than she knew and I love her more than she knows     I have a crush on everyone     I crush on everyone and I listen to silly love songs K-Ci and JoJo All My Life     Middle school benjamin believes he will marry Krystal and this will be their wedding song     I slow dance with Krystal too – a middle school benjamin slow dances with Krystal and the song All My Life by K-Ci and JoJo and Dreaming Of You by Selena play during our dance     a high school benjamin slow dances with Krystal and I do not listen to the songs we slow dance to     I write to remember and realize     I do not remember: I improves the letters without memory

I emerge dirge desert     I emerge dirge desert museum become desert body     Bodies braid desert     Bodies burnish desert detailed bronze / divergent brass bodies convergent bronze bodies     I emerge desert common bodies body slow share body and bodies sand sound     Bodies drone desert singing sands an experimental museum     Experimental desert drones ben bodies

It’s really free, spiritual music, not just free music, says Albert Ayler and as for playing it, other musicians worry about what they’re playing.  But we’re listening to each other… We are trying to rejuvenate that old New Orleans feeling that music can be played collectively with free forms… When I say free form, I don't mean everybody does what he wanted to.  You have to listen to each other, you have to improvise collectively, says Albert Ayler

Musical ideologies inspire my creative anarchy (I conceive of my anarchy as a creative anarchy: anarchy as creative anarchy)     Free jazz, free improvisation, aleatoric musics, mobile form musics, a general musical experimentation: these provide models and philosophies that encourage my own anarchic experimentations     I attempt to write a more transparent PROCESS and EXPERIMENTATION (the desert museum an inner labyrinth of laboratories)

Flesh frees flesh ben bodies laboratories     ben bodies laboratory subterranean / cave mouth maps free jazz rhythm rhizomes     Museum red medicines / pharmakon flesh cannibalisms     I cannibal canonical flesh, eucharist made strangely anarchic (I have been thinking about something in regards to the church, I say.  Oh yeah? says Asia.  What have you been thinking?  I went to church.  I wasn't going to take the eucharist but I felt a certain intensity, to the point of near tears.  I felt the eloi eloi lema sabachthani, the god my god why have you forsaken me.  I think those abandoned by god deserve the bread and wine too.  Maybe even more so than those who have god… I divide up the body of Christ for all.  Perhaps the death of god opens up a different rhizomic community, a flat ontological ouroboros, I say.  I think so too, says Asia.  It made me think perhaps it's important as a prophet-without-god to be allowed to commune and partake of the body of Jesus even if that means heresy.  I feel like maybe a true anarchic community means something like this: the kingdom as this intermingled heresy and orthodoxy, I say.  I would agree with that, says Asia, because it disregards typical religious hierarchies of in groups and out groups, she says)

I cannibal flat flesh: flesh fastened pharmakon closed then open kisses     Closed then open kisses kingdom of the skies     I kiss her eyes and eye mouth kisses     eye kisses cave mouth nude blue Christina crossed letters and crowned letters     Her eye interests me as a text     Her left eye interests me as a poem and her right eye interests me as a short story flesh flash fiction (the line made of an infinite number of points: the plane of an infinite number of lines: the volume an infinite number of planes: the hypervolume of an infinite number of volumes…)

I kiss her left eye as a whooping crane and I kiss her right eye as a pelican plucks blood blue nude cannibals (Babes of the night, with an appetite!  CANNIBAL HOOKERS   These babes will do anything for a little action!  These girls will do anything to get into Zama Gama Bata sorority.  The initiation is to dress up as a couple of Hollywood Hookers, pick up Johns and bring them back to the sorority.  All the while the sisters of Zama Gama Bata are waiting to have a little fresh meat when they get there!  There is no shortage of blood and guts in this tale of two babies lost in the bright lights of Hollywood!)

I bite bone babes of the night (haste haste to bring him land, the babe the son of Mary)     I bite bare bone babes the principle of least action

Book and museum storm sand not as a separate sand but sand sheets of sound and sand ten-in-one sideshow     Sand serpent sideshow shimmer camera shutter swimmer and I swim slime holy spirit     I swim slurm holy spirit / split cerebrospinal fluids     I swim serpent syntax holy spirit sand sound levitation (lobster leviathan throat lozenge)

Become length lieder cedar light     Become length desert der doppelganger / gum ganglia gabber gore

Become beware batter bodies     Beware bare bodies timber gore tusk timbre     Gospel gores boar tusk through human bodies / fuck gospel I fillet the gospel into bone furniture     I sit gospel and I sleep gospel (I make a steady return to copying gospel and copying any scripture because I still adore scripture and it scrapes bone bald albondigas soup     Bone scraps gospels / narrow horror marrow (and after six days Jesus told him what to do, and in the evening the youth came to him, wearing a linen cloth over his body.  And he remained with him that night, for Jesus taught him the mystery of the Kingdom of God.  And thence, arising, he returned to the other side of the Jordan)

She transmits to me secret gospel: secret gospel   extended gopsel   new gospel     I recite pseudepigrapha and it strengthens true myth     Myth becomes length and becomes deep

Between gospel dead end no outlet between

My apartment accumulates apocalypses     Aggregate apocalypses and apocalypse a gore agglutinations     Meerkat morphine machine / noun states accent on air nanomachines

Become length become deep duration     Become deep duration desert: desert cave desert chasm     Desert bone char cave cave chasm     I chew cave mouth become ocean become desert

Become burr bone blade or bar cave fires     Become boat oar ouroboros cave matters weathered bone

I feel absurd gore bone gospel     Gospel gleams human guts / my guts jut behind the green door     My guts jut ben adam body without organs dark black / black paintings     Guts jut son of man ben adam becomes becomes ben broad brushstrokes body without organs     I join gospel fire fluid and body horror phantasmagoria crucifixions

I Involve Myself In Longer Improvisations

I was rewriting old stuff, I say to Asia.  I wrote:  

Deconstruction always writes love letters… I always write love letters to YHVH and KRYSXTRYN

It made me think how much I miss Yahweh sometimes even though obviously it wasn’t a good relationship.  I mean it wasn’t me who even ended it.  He abandoned me.  But I was thinking who much he still ghosts and haunts… I don’t think your feelings would change about me if I went back to Christianity.  I see how you’re not very haunted by Christianity, but I feel I often am, I say.  My feelings wouldn’t change, says Asia.  And I understand: I felt like god and Christianity haunted me for a very long time.  I still do every once in awhile.  And if you went back, I don’t think it would hurt you.  You had a decent community there and they were very open minded and accepting.  I don’t think you can grow there though, she says.  I didn’t realize you did [feel haunted] every once in awhile, I say.  Oh yeah, says Asia.  It was just last January that my mom said getting mental help was a sign that I was still myself and I spiraled bigly because in the Christianity I grew up in, you couldn’t trust your emotions and there were all kinds of secret sin so what if I was lying to myself and I was a worthless piece of shit and god was going to damn me to hell? says Asia.  I’m not sure you’d know the answer but where or how do you think I would grow best?  Maybe I’m projecting but I think you need a space where you are allowed to define spirituality for yourself and no one is defining it for you, she says.

I have a vision of the spiritual space as a library, but unlike the Library of Babel, I know the location of the circular chamber containing the great circular book with the continuous spine… The Book is not god but ben adam, a son of man and a son of perdition, and my sins sow sacred     My sins seed new spider gods and new serpent gods, unusual and defamiliar holy spirits

That position of playing these Bill Evans to Coltrane type things to playing completely improvised pieces

My eyes improvise insects     My eyes improvise insects complete metamorphosis   cyclical summer cicada improvisations   cicada were wolf chariot wheel improvisations     My eyes surprise instant insects / interior brine shrimp salt brain   my brain salts sea monkeys

Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition

I play perdition dorian my flesh phyrgian     I play perdition photograph and print peacock angel     Peacock angel angles peacock tail stop-motion animation     I pitch perdition as parasite but peacock perches prima materia / palm tree garden

I sin perdition peridot     I sin perdition aperiodic peridot, pure chaotic cut cut calvin and cut chariot my bodies

(Everyone seems to record everything they play) (I play and if only play more: more amour ada or ardor isosceles avalanche) (I play SNOW EXPLODE snow explosion castlevania earth) (Castlevania castaway castanets   castanet canary almonds)

Almonds aleph     Almonds alpha and omega     Aleph almond discovered walnuts     Discovered geometries walnut wheels (I found god and religion too)

Disordered walnut word women women     Walnut malchut: malchut leaf cutter cutters clack klang chariots: chariot bone char charizard improvisation

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form

Form flings fast futures (I write towards this particular future, this peculiar apocalypse)     Form flings fishers of men and the son of man hooks son of perdition ben-hinnom     My flesh ben-hinnom and my sin flirt fast flag operations     Ben sing honey hinnom windows: been whirlwind ben adam

More form less form simultaneous     More form less form both directions at once

(My flesh fishes folk tradition and folk process) (My flesh fishes garden of forking paths tuning fork phrygian)

Let his days be few; and let another take his office

Office ostinato ouroboros floor fell: more form less form both directions at once office open

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form… From simple melody to complicated textures to simplicity again and then back to the more dense, the more complex sounds

I meditate modes measured or mapped into mediums / I desire to write an intermedia and mixed media     I desire simultaneous simplicity and complexity (lower partials an often require great subtlety of bowing to reveal)     I meditate musical modes / mode median mean     I meditate modal jazz and I Modulate from dorian to lydian or mixoldyian to phyrigian / free flesh and phyrigan flesh

John Coltrane’s Meditations (My goal in mediating on through this music however, remains the same.  And that is to uplift people, as much as I can.  To inspire them to realize more and more of their capacities for living meaningful lives.  Because there certainly is meaning to life)

John Coltrane’s Meditations; mode then mode form free form (I unfix my flesh freer writing)


I have been experimenting writing more and in the first person and reflecting on my writing openly, I say.  Wondering out loud what I want to do with this experiment, if it’s working, possible solutions I can take.  Here’s an example from today’s blog post:

(Conversations with others helps me to develop my prophetic ideas: a human form of rubber duck debugging     I monologue and the other receives and their vessels visit me in visions     I think Philip K. Dick had a similar idea about the Christ and AntiChrist as siblings     I need to listen more: receive more: eat more light her leviathan)

However I want to push it more and be even more open about it I say.  Yes, says Asia, but alternating between I and my often and don't be afraid of you.  A well-placed you can rope in an unsuspecting reader and put them in the center of attention.  I’ve felt for awhile that your writing feels detached from you like you are severed from it when I read it even when it’s about your own feelings, and now that you mention it, the reason why is so obvious.  What's the reason why, you think? I say.  It’s the lack of personal pronouns, says Asia.  That's part of it anyways.  I also think you tend to bring up these juicy personal emotions and then quickly drop them without fully engaging in them in the piece… I don’t think you should go back to fully doing first person.  I personally think pronouns should jump scare people when they are reading poetry, says Asia.  I agree, I say.  I want an eclectic and flexible approach, a pragmatic approach.  There’s a quote from philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein that’s been inspiring me:  there’s not a single philosophical method, though there are indeed methods, different therapies, as it were…


I invent something else     I invent a stranger improvisation: a new-old improvisation and a radical-tradition improvisation     Not a radical orthodoxy but a heterodox marriage of heaven and hell     A hodgepodge radically heterodox hop-scotch greater game

(Like when I was doing free jazz, says Ornette Coleman, most people thought that I just picked up my saxophone and played whatever was going through my head, without following any rule, but that wasn't true)

I invent something else: not a something without rules or structure, but I play the modes to get more form in the free form

(The idea that two or three people can have a conversation with sounds, without trying to dominate or lead it)

I invent something else   else sound other sound (once in awhile, playing a long, very quiet tone)     I tune tones looney tunes table trajectories     I toon tones amplified animation (an example of traditional animation, a horse animated by rotoscoping from Eadweard Muybridge’s 19th century photos)

I invent something else excess improvisation     Radical rhizome improvisation fever hell     Hell hodgepodge hop-scotch hall monitor monitor lizard laugh track hell     Hell gone backgammon backstop stone stilts steeple chase staples     Staple chain steeple striated muscle

I pull and stretch the language like salt water taffys     I strike languages stone sounds (any pitch, any tuning of that pitch)     I love language as SOUNDS, a clattering ionization of rains and percussions and the sounds signal sirens lions roars     I rotate languages round sound: muted then open

I try to write a purer and purer sound / outdoors or in a larger resonant space

Staple chain church steeple stall striated muscle (My body blusters clumsy fumbled flesh: fleshscape landscape sits other FLESH CAFE     Flesh floorless roller coaster flesh     My flesh flabbergast geist cotton candy     I’ve got a kotton crown kottonmouth kings)

Cotton candy stations of the cross stacked fourths fourth forked flesh     Cotton candy stations of the cross klang cotton candy khora (you've got a cotton crown gonna keep it underground)

Cotton candy cords Christianity altered dominant chords     Cotton candy spins sugar thread lydian stations of the cross she lights the lights brighter lydian chymistries (you’re going to take control of chemistry and you’re gonna manifest the mystery)

That the man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition

I Try To Get More Form In The Free Form

Asia says or I think Asia says to write with sincerity and honesty and to involve my self     I obscure my life with occult and roundabout eclipse: my life embarrasses me and my thoughts embarrass me     I cannot write confessional poetry     I cannot write the open holy bridal chamber of Robert Lowell, Anne Sexton, and Sylvia Plath: my confessional thoughts bruise and embarrass     Look at my embarrassing bruises little boy blue blow your horn     I blow twelve bar embarrassing blues (featured a new emphasis on intense, uninhibited discussion of persons, family, and psychological struggles)

Asia appears to me in a dream and she repeats the same words the ghost of Carl Sandburg tells Sufjan Sevens: even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated are you writing from the heart are you writing from the heart   Even in his heart the devil has to know the water level are you writing from the heart are you writing from the heart

During a music composition lesson in college, my composition professor challenged me to use a set limit of pitches (perhaps six or seven pitches)     I use the amount of pitches but constantly mitigated the limitation through the use of continual metric modulations that stirred stagger mathematical monstrosity     My composition professor remarked that I wrote from the intellectual brain but didn’t write from the passion of the heart

I write towards a totality, with my entire being, even if it embarrasses (heart and soul one will burn)

What does a scanner see?  I mean really see?  Into the head?  Down into the heart?  Does it see into me – into us – clearly or darkly?  I hope it does see clearly because I can’t any longer these days see into myself…

Dark arc ark     Dark arc ark make yourself an ark of cypress wood, make rooms in the ark, and cover it inside and out with pitch

Dark ark arclight watchlight light jacklight light she lights the lights     She lights the lights the bridegroom moves to her     She lights the lights arclight watchlight light jacklight light the tree of life upside down

Dark arc ark art free jazz jam dark     Dark arc art juggler light magician the jams run free     Free flowing point free jazz     Free cool cobweb bridal chamber free jazz / I decide to write simpler songs for everybody to plug in immediately     I write a super song record that contains rockers and ballads (I think you appreciate the creativity and unique voice involved [in the Book] but you don’t always agree with my creative decisions for it.  You think it can be impenetrable and frustratingly opaque.  I think that’s fair, says Asia)

I stretch still dark     I stretch dark stars it’s not dark yet but it’s getting there

Dark dilivium demands ark ale bark archaic book rubbing sparks     Dark demands dilivium delirium: delight and delirium delivers dark     I enter dark ark and dark cave chasm, another deep     Deep desert dark a scanner darkly

I experiment and I improvise the experiments     I improvise the experiments free jazz and avant-garde jazz     I experiment as the distortion and vibration of timbre / wide vibrato visions various dark dirge scourge scalloped hammerhead darkness     I don’t know where the experiments go but I let the word and language lead me and the language loops lamp nonlinear corona-cluster light magic lantern light     I experiment light and dark both direction at once     both directions at once dark dark cloud light     Both directions at once nonlinear ouroboros the paradoxical accessible opaque     I write both directions at once and I let the polyrhythms round ground mellow tone hones sharp bone

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form.  Furthermore, I’d like to play something like the beginning of “Ghosts” – that people can hum

Asia Rhizome appears to me in Desert Dreaming and she screams dream caw caw the crow comes at us     Asia screams caw caw the crow who’s here     Asia bird calls more memory than melody     I mingle melody mangled more melody polymeter disintegration   more melody a scanner darkly      

More modes map arcade missile command haunted hands strange my body gorgon     My body gorguts gorgon no ground     Bodies no ground golgotha: gorgon gethsemane my body seeds a scanner darkly     What does a scanner see: seed slate plow slow dark     Slow dark video cassette system ode to melancholy     Bodies ode to melancholy desiring-machine go not to lethe, neither this wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine…

I hum ghosts     I hum GHOST hammocks body horror     I hum ghosts ghosts BLOODY PIT OF HORROR he lures beautiful women to his torture-chamber and reveled in their agony… He was a homicidal MANIAC WHO KILLED TO KILL

I hum ghosts / space ghost coast to coast Sonny Sharrock guitar noise feedback bloody lightning bolt

What does a scanner see:  GHOSTS     What does a scanner see:  HOLY GHOST bells and prophecies

What does a scanner see: simple mode simple melody

I do not begin my novel at the beginning, I do not reach chapter 3 before I reach chapter 4, I do not dutifully go from one page to the next, in consecutive order: no I pick out a bit here and there, until I have filled the gaps on the paper

I write more melody nonlinear page aporia     Past porous nonlinear aporia     Page porous pulse nonlinear aporia pulse     I break up the pulse plus pulse book books block chord katabasis     Black midi block chord khora katabasis

I do not begin but continue process peacock aporia     Peacock stopped clock complete

I feel myself often lost because the writing becomes labyrinthine nonlinear but Asia Rhizome appears to me in dreams:  more refrains, more choruses, more melody     I return to my melody unmetered free time: time turn tack Taryn time turn Taryn thumbscrew screwdriver

What does a scanner see: not a beginning but nonlinear dark and nonlinear desert     Nonlinear desert delights the light magma light molten polymeters / metered polytheism tantric tonic

What does a scanner see: darker gnosis the tree of knowledge upside down     I see into me darkly     I see me dark body a bizarre song     Bizarre bazaar song bisexual: song gong gone the gluts of gallows     Glut gut gallows microflora fire


Conversations with Asia Rhizome 06/22/2020 4:37 AM

I talked to one of my aunts again the other day, says Asia, and this conversation went better but I still don’t really agree with them, and at one point we talked about my dad, and my aunt was saying my dad was passive and didn’t establish structure for my little sibling... She said she was scared that would happen with me and my partner and that I would be the only parent establishing discipline.  She doesn’t know my partner, so I have no idea where she got this idea from.  Is he abrasive as me?  No, not really, but if he was we would fight all the time.  That doesn't mean that he is passive.. It still boggles my mind that she came to the conclusion “He isn't a Christian!  His home will be anarchy and Asia will have to do everything!” says Asia.


I play too passive to Christianity; I do not discipline Christianity to the degree necessary     I must dominate Christianity and tie elaborate knots stations of the cross kinbaku     I write Christianity too passively: I must act on Christianity as additive or attacking rhythm, the aggressive rhythms of Olivier Messiaen’s Turangulila-Symphonie

I act aggressive not passive but passions for stations of the cross

I belong not to Christianity but I amplify anarchy     I add anarchy to anarchy air axle aether     I interpret anarchy as luminiferous aether she lights the lights     Aether she lights the lights amen cadence dark amen

Anarchy acme atom bomb new     Anarchy arco thump col legno     Anarchy arco abrasive additive rhythm rockin’ robin

Anarchy as absurd as the cross     Anarchy absurd crucifixion     Anarchic against contra christ my body: body book black through a scanner darkly

A polite warning: this house is not a home!  HOUSE OF CRAZIES   The hot-blooded beauty in the cold freezer   Look at the leg that creeps – but there’s not body   It’s not easy breathing in a paper bag… especially if you’re only a head   The doctor makes his last call   Just look at the way they’re dying… in the living room   See the little metal man and his big knife

Body house hell crucifixion     Body house body horror house     Body house house horses houses body horror     An anarchic house sandpaper abrasions     Sandpaper sandpiper abrasive against body anarchic     I do not abandon anarchy but let the anarchic appropriate satiate itself complete to the skeleton

And he said, whoever finds the interpretation of these sayings will not experience death

I interpret I improvise     I interpret improvisation icon iotas     I interpret anarchic ice imp ink ions     I interpret abrasive improvisation harsh noise wall word     Word more modal between modes wide timbre tinted noise

I hope it does see clearly because I can't any longer see these days see into myself: I see murk.  Murk inside, murk outside

Murk as machine: murk machine mass     Mass murk machine molasses: molasses inside, molasses outside     Outside another murk / machine a system of interrupts and breaks     These are the breaks break it up break it up break it up     Every machine murks machine the continual flows that it cuts into onto other     Onto murk other murk minor mass     Murk musk mollusk moloch: moloch fire human mass     Human modal fire flint modal

Murk marriage of heaven and hell hyle     Hyle hits high hyle a ham-slicing machine removing portions from the associative low

A scanner darkly: dense dark and dusk dark     I detect dark desiring-machine murk     Murk swap meet polymeter polymeter moloch     Murk the mourning dove gets caught in a telephone wire     Murk drive through the streets as gunshots punctuate the night the sides we take divide from our faith / my faith enfleshes murk     My faith foes phantom murk and murk phantom     Murk phantom muddles mud / phantom of the opera open masquerade     Phantom of paradise rock n’ roll plagal cadence camp     Plagal cadence notes on camp the horror as camp jellyjam

Murk matter paintings     Murk matte black mason jar     Mason jar jazz preserves / she’s a jam with a heavy lid my pop quiz kid

Mall sprawl murk     Murk maybe mixed media mellow pigments / my body a scanner darkly desaturated     Desaturated desert camera cocaine cacophony

Murk inside: murk outside     Murk microcosm macrocosm

Murk hat hut records hamartia

Murk earth urgent aether

Sometimes all I write is murk     The Book appears opaque to me: murk inside, murk outside     I see nothing     I write nothing the noun states accent on air     Book shrouds my brain brine branes / absurd jellyfish flatulence

Dark Drones Cosmic Dark Bodies

Ten-in-One human oddity outside playing / side-slipping and side-stepping spiral staircase exquisite corpse My corpse encases my corpse screwtape sausages My corpse cane cap sun grey glass corpses

Mutant magnavox odyssey

Ten-in-One human oddity autonomous automobiles (adventurous automobiles automobile andromeda) Accelerating auditorium autonomous automobile mutant magnavox odyssey Human oddity paranoia (strange how paranoia) (strange how paranoia can link up with reality now and then)

Human oddities other than this other a scanner darkly

Haunted scanner scanner homology what does a scanner see

Haunted homology scanner logia logoi lifted light a scanner sees Light scanner haunted light lime blind (Can a girl in the lingerie racket keep her decency even while she sheds her clothes? LIMITED LTD A bold brilliant book pitilessly revealing the strange temptations besettling two attractive career girls in a business without scruples!)

I laugh lingerie Light I laugh lingerie lights off what does a scanner see Lingerie for now we sit thorough a glass darkly then face to face naked

I cut scanner and I collage SOMETHING ELSE!!! and SOMETHING DIFFERENT!!!!! Scanner scatters light dark lingerie Scanner scavenges soda ash / ben bones mimic sodium bicarbonate

What does a scanner see? He asked himself. I mean, really see? Into the head? Down into the heart?

And he said: He who shall find the interpretation of these words shall not taste death

Death scans my body dense Death dresses my body light lingerie then darker body bone black ash Bone black quaking aspen Bone black live oak live oak oh baby let your zylum float

Death draws a raven like a writing desk Death duels death dual the very dream Death duets with dice a throw of the dice will never abolish chance Death dual numbers a hypercomplex number system system shock (enter that room, insect, and it will become your grave)

Death desert gospel: Death catacomb Christianity

Death desert duet drop desert Death desert dusk dyad desert

Digital death digital desert

My body death drags long black: long black balrog desert My body black death bass bubonic boxing My body boxer-punchers black death desert drag / drag hag triplets a scanner darkly

ben body dark drives different dragsters / hot rod a scanner darkly

ben body dark driller killer downtown music I cut minimal Christian hymns I cut minimal star stone: stone locusts Christian hymns (a hymn is the praise of God with song; a song is the exultation of the mind dwelling on eternal things, bursting forth in voice)

Hymns haunt salt psalms: celery salt skeleton key banishing circles Circles saturate circles a scanner darkly / when we saw paris in flames

Experiment something else: experiment something different no difference between this notebook and that notebook but Book rings bells body process Cut later or don’t cut at all: leave it all in embarrassing naked naked nonsense

My voice BELLS bodies My voice BELLS bodies the ensemble not yet formed into a cohesive balanced whole but a rickety patchwork, its seams (and therefore process) showing proudly through

A scanner darkly a scanner darkly

A scanner darkly a scanner darkly doubled desert

I depend on desert

ben body desert dressed desert barren black: black stone solar barge various resurrections of Sun Ra

In vision, John Coltrane and Sun Ra play Arkestra Ancient of Ancients, and Sabbatai Sevi dances before the Ark of the Covenant

Desert necessarily determines experiment / aleatoric a scanner darkly Alpha and Omega a scanner darkly: alpha a scanner darkly omega

Desert deconstructs desert apophatic experiment alpha and omega

The recordings show Albert Ayler using a modular approach to his music, with thematic sections that can be reshuffled interspersed with improvisation

I imagine my writing as similarly modular or even mimicking a modular arithmetic: Book cyclotomic body time, with repeated interjections and refrains of the Nag Hammadi Library, the Christian bible, and snippets of musical biographies and techniques Texts interleaved with texts myth mathematics I continue the experiment and improvisation: if I stop experimenting, I die If I stop improvising, I die

An orgy of death was their ultimate love! VAMPIRE LOVERS

Death drink distance: desert bodies ben Desert bodies ben doubled bodies buried death: death dumbo pink elephants on parade Sun Ra improvises pink elements on parade and the batman theme song

Orgy death antipode ozone: ozone ozarks ouroboros Orgy against wheel death crib chariot death dolphin dance Orgy death backdoor turnaround altered dominants Orgy organic chemistry clotho cut apocalypse Vampire apocalypse sunlight Sun Ra / ash blood and rivers

Ayler was the type of person who wouldn’t say, I want this, or I want that. He’d just say, Play! Fill it up with sound!

Fill it up with sound a scanner darkly a scanner darkly

Sound flesh a fervent tarot skull terror vampire lovers

Sound flesh flash with my flesh black iron prison

Black iron prison gospel of thomas Black iron prison gospel of thomas taryn taller tetragrammaton Thomas Taryn the Twin: whoever penetrates the meaning of these words will not taste death

I write with and without death: I write with and without meaning Wheezy Waiter used to make videos every weekday and during that time, the whole point of his YouTube videos was pointlessness: making anything as long as he made a video Similarly, I need tow rite less meaning I need to write less meaning and even no meaning but write pure writing pure cinema: documentation of the play of language Language plays further language, language flush to my flesh Languages flush to my flesh fill it up with sound

Black iron prison gospel of thomas / you will follow the book whose every page is an abyss where the wing shines with the name

What does a scanner see? He asked himself. I mean really see. Into the head? Down into the heart? Does a passive infrared scanner – like they used to use or a cube-type halo-scanner – like they use these days, the latest thing, see into me – into us – clearly or darkly?

Darkling! I smell you’re blood. You’re a vampire.

Darkling I listen and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful death

So to darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing

I prefer the dark I prefer dark because the dark drones cosmic Dark drones cosmic dark bodies ben a son of man I prefer dark and I work night shift shifted sand book of sand I prefer dark and I prefer desert marriage of heaven and hell heterodynes Heterodyne desert Taryn tartini tones Nonlinear inner ear eye erosion

Down into the heart dark down heart hearth black bell heat Black bell body blue blobs Blue bells blue blobs bodies swallowed to bone Bone boat blue bells head heart hearth Bone bell bodies head heart hearth heterodyne the marriage of heaven and hell

I find a conversation with Asia dated 08/25/2021 7:24 AM, about 2.5 years ago

It is difficult to give up a toxic god, I say. Why is it difficult? I’m a bad person, maybe. A toxic God is better than no God. Why do you think you deserve a bad god? says Asia. Because I am bad. I don’t know if God is bad. God is painful. Isn’t there just one god? Yes, it’s a painful and wounding God. If that’s the case, then fuck god, says Asia. You don’t deserve to suffer. You aren’t god’s play thing. I’m a prophet of God. Of course I’m god’s play thing. No, you aren’t. I feel like a play thing. I feel I don’t have a choice. Fuck God but then God fucks me, I say. You are going to have to reach a place where you believe that you deserve better, says Asia. Even if it means that you live on spite for a little bit. I don’t know if I do deserve better. Everyone does, she says. Learn to love yourself. Start there. How do I love myself when I am not worthy of love? I just think prophets are meant to be treated like dirt by God. I’m officially pro you giving up prophecy, says Asia. Honestly, I think it’s a title you purposefully stepped into so you can justify why you think you deserve to suffer. I don’t think life has any meaning if I am not a prophet, I say. If that’s how you thin, that’s how it will be, says Asia. You are the one holding the pen, you are the one that gets to assign meaning. I want to say meaning ultimately resides with God but I don't know if that means anything either, I say. Bullshit, says Asia. You are deflecting responsibility. Plus, you are the one interpreting scripture. You interpret god. If that’s the case, then there is no hope for me. And why the fuck is that? says Asia. You are in control here, she says.

I do not prophesy for the Christian god or the Jesus of the Christian gospels: I prophesy something unknown I prophesy from unknown, between unknown, and to an unknown This new prophecy remains unknown even to me and I approximate apophatic multiple deaths and resurrections of the gods Thomas Altizer writes: Theology was born out of faith’s will to enter history; now theology must die at the hands of a faith that is strong enough to shatter history…

I enter into faith on and contra Christian history, a Christianity embedded not in the Kingdom of God, but in an always-already occurring eschaton and a never-occurring eschaton / simultaneous christian hauntologies

I cut this and do something different Writing Christianity proves difficult: it feels too close, too comfortable, a strange anti-experimental self-annihilation What Asia said: Christianity and the title of prophet becomes an attempt to justify my self-inflicted self-destruction suicides station station many Christianities the empire never ended Therefore, I engage in a bodily hermeneutics and rhizomic asia prophetic pulse with Christianities through a scanner darkly

I write clumsy Christianity I write ben bog body laden lead led zeppelin…

I still have difficulty loving my self If I do not write – if I don’t do the creative work – then I do not give myself love and kindness I cannot write enough and make enough creative work to quench that knot negative body I have replaced one abusive god for another abusive god but I devour the god through the body written

I write dark darker: ben brain denser black bakes bone a scanner darkly

On this idea of getting up and moving on but I wait around, just emptying bottles in the basement of the Slovaj center of my side of town

I feel messy dark and I feel fell disaster I hide in the slits some slate a scanner darkly (I’ve got my back to the sun because the light is too intense) Ten-in-One dark I undress my gods nude

Theme To Theme Through Silver In Blood

The Asia and writing stuff is entangled, I say, because I’m trying to write for Asia, I say.  I think there’s a problem with writing for a human, says Christina.  If you write for a human who isn’t you, there will necessarily be differences in taste.  You’re setting an impossible goal for yourself, says C.  That's true but I need help to get better.  How do I get better if I don't write for someone?  I wrote for you for a long time.  I’m sure that didn’t make you better! says C.  I never respond.  You need to write for a higher purpose.  Christina is not a higher purpose?  No, definitely not.  I don’t think Asia is either.

The hidden saying, that the savior spoke to Judas Thomas, which I, Mathaias, in turn recorded.  I was walking, listening to them speak with each other.

Hidden sayings serpent     Hidden sayings saturn slip straw dogs dog din desert     din dog desert da’at detour decoupage coupled couplet capulet and montague

Hidden     Hidden I have often suspected wave functions     Hidden ben a son of man and a son of soil hidden, I open the soil and a son, and its vineyard yields hermetic homunculus

I attempt to uncover hidden speech: my speech written in wheels and waters     I awake water mixed with soil and sun concentrates its kaleidoscope khora incomplete concrete

I attempt an attempt Son of Man Alpha and Omega and the Human One hides trapdoor spider sprawled all in the Book

Christianities and gods gruppen haunt hidden sayings this Book of Wheels and serpents / organic chemistry ouroboros

How would you evaluate this? I ask Asia.  

The Book means THE JOY OF LANGUAGE     The book means THE PLAY OF LANGUAGE     The Book means IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD     The Book means LOGOS SHE LIGHTS THE LIGHTS     The Book means KRYSXTRYN + ASIA RHIZOME DIVINE LANGUAGE…

I also found this past message from the past month:  “The meaning of the Book is me having relationship with others, and the relationships make god events happen”.  Yeah, I don’t disagree with any of that, says Asia.  Do you think that’s a higher purpose or do I need to find something higher up? I say.  Seems like a pretty good high purpose to me, says Asia, and at the very least it will give you something to focus on for now and you can always change the purpose later, she says.

Ten-in-One Tent     Ten-in-One Tabernacle     Tabernacle shining blank scars burn way down     I scratch scar stars sheets of sound book slates / similar sheet slates snakes     Snakes my body burns Son of Man: Son of Man down desert doom

Tabernacle shrine of the silver monkey shines skeleton crew crow burnings

Tabernacle parts ways with the serpent view   cast stones where to stop calling you     Stone sun calls me: sun stone calls me churchyard     Sun stone sundress calls me to human sacrifices the Christian churchyard (Lust ruled supreme in their orgy world!  SHAME CULT)

Ten-in-One Gospel of Thrones: these the secret words   these the obscure sayings   here the secret words   these the secret sayings     Gospel of Thomas travels Son of man through silver in blood     Ten-in-One thrown silver in blood we stand not judged by eyes of flesh     My flesh flows fears no window but I fear death by water     My flesh flashes eye fire then earnest fire a fanning out of the dark forest     Forest midway dark through my life     My flesh flows tree of life and tree of knowledge of good and evil: tree of life upside down

Ten-in-One tents through silver in blood we stand not judged by eyes of flesh     When transit times cross prey vision consumed     Ten serpents swallow my flesh ben bites son of man     Serpents swallow my body bloats swollen liver nonlinear serpents     Nonlinear ten-in-one serpents sweep flesh: flexible flesh as flash     Serpents pour sulfur into flesh flash and my body boils soil     My body boils down down floats soup secret saying and the Christ appears to me as encrypted dream     Shoegaze dream god brighten blood

God events? says C.  So I was telling Asia about a theologian and philosopher named John D. Caputo, I say.  His work is based on Jacques Derrida.  He says God is not a being but an event, the event of the unconditional call to the unconditional love and hospitality that occurs in the name of God.  I was thinking of how my friendships with the women in my life call us to that unconditional that sometimes goes by the name of god, I say.  I love it, says Christina.  In my own life, the Book has prompted “God Events” says C.  When I write Christina I think I also write the god event and god name with the relationship of the Kindred.  Even if God doesn't exist the Kindred still calls us to the unconditional, to the greater love and demands of the wholly other, I say.  Definitely a good start from my perspective, says C.  I think it leaves room for not requiring any one person's approval to be meaningful or to achieve the purpose, she says.

Ten-in-One sideshow tabernacle taps windstorm promised the teeth   strained eyes see glory     Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord     Strained eyes earth imitative polyphony / counterpoint aporias (and when the farmer awoke the next morning, all the seeds from his field were once again in their sacks)

The teeth strained eyes edits and my eyes edit teeth excess     Teeth excess sideshow exegesis     Exegesis swallows exegesis of Philip K. Dick eyes of archons

Teeth attack attacca attica attica

The teeth eyes strained imitate earth son of man son of soil and my vineyard bares the graveyard     Teeth eyes slice sideshows / ten-in-one teeth eyes

Ten-in-One rings end in slow death   wash out your wounds rings end in slow death     My death tangles serpents / their naked bodies writhed in terror as they screamed again and again in the slaughterhouse

Rings end in slow death substance D then teeth a scanner darkly

Rings in slow death an aporia polynomial rings     Polynomial polymath imitative earth polyphony

Sideshow ringworms     Ten-in-One ouroboros parasites     Parasite serpents with passions for the Cross     Cross circus short circuit serpents     I cut rings into my cranium heavy metals     Metal machine body lead gold silver: distressed serpents     Sow death distressed desert     Desert I’m back to speaking in tongues

Ten-in-One sideshow locust star / don’t crawl seek his burn of war when the fall out comes he is fire (I recall the first time listening to the Neurosis album Through Silver In Blood     I first learned of the record through the Deftones message board, with a user promulgating its extreme beauty and ugliness, greater than any other album they heard     I downloaded the title track, Aeon, and Locust Star through Napter on a 56k Modem and it took hours to download the longer songs     The record destroyed my brain and I eventually bought it and their 1999 record Times Of Grace at a local record store     Through Silver In Blood’s sometimes opaque lyrics influenced my own oblique poetic explorations     I need more through silver in blood: I need more hauntological apocalypse topological haunted apocalypse aporia eschaton)

Dawn in the black forest: rebirth out of apocalypse

My skull as sideshow swims ten-in-one ouroboros swallows earth

My skull sideshow scrapes ten-in-one scraps my body threshold     My body swells body threshing floor     I winnow barley tonight at the threshing floor and the woman in my window gazes eyes of god     Eyes islands liminal body basking shark black     I wash and anoint myself and I put on my best clothes and go down to the threshing floor     My body threshes thresher shark thrash metal and the mixed multitudes surround my bodies sacred scapegoat violence (how long does it take a razor sharp knife to slice… FROM EAR TO EAR)

Ten-in-One tabernacle tastes tenor saxophone     Tall tent revives tenor saxophone multiphonics / a ghostly mixture of marches and folk melodies

Albert Ayler leads the band from theme to theme with melodic cues on his horn, though he often lets Don take over the melody in order that hey may ad lib counterpoint

Theme to theme: tenor saxophone     Theme to theme: ten-in-one tenor saxophone multiphonics     I write theme to theme as long Coltrane tenor saxophone solos: Coltrane’s tenor solo on One Up One Down at the Half Note in 1965    I write theme to theme as long Coltrane soprano saxophone solo: Coltrane's second soprano saxophone solo on Afro-Blue on Live In Japan in 1966     I write the long solo theme to theme a thicker line     I thicken the line palm muted power chords then free funk harmolodics     Theme to theme a thicker line then lines nonlinear micropolyphony     My flesh multiphonics micropolyphony


Conversations With Asia 06/17/2020 3:47 AM

I’m having a hard time balancing writing and research, I say.  Research one day, write the next, says Asia.  Very pragmatic.  Maybe write a little free form summary at the end of every research session, she says.


I still have trouble balancing research and my writing but my solution has been to write and rewrite the research     I treat the research as another text, text theme to text theme     Theme to theme throne of god / kavod khora compact stations of the cross     I write the research to understand the research: however, because I feel compelled to write through and transmute the research, it takes me much longer to read any text and I rarely finish texts    I find I do not read texts for reading pleasure, but I always read to find languages to steal for the Book

Theme to theme truth is marching in and infinite spirit

Muted sound but multiphonics, a sort of fearless tenor flesh     Flesh sounds surreptitious time tine ship tender tenor saxophone multiphonics

Muted sound machine pistons and cylinders     My muted sound scrambles all the codes and transmits decoded flows of desire: I desire desert sound     Desert sound resembles assemblages or event echoes     Event echo rode possible alternate reality games (note to self: research transmedia, multimedia, alternate reality games)

Sound sings a little     Sound sings broken chords sing a little

Ten-in-One oracles ouroboros odyssey     Ten-in-One overdo opioids oblong orchids     Ten-in-One original overdo original outlay: overlay axelay oxygen outlet     Ten-in-One ocular orgasms an open eye / long day’s journey into night     Long night a tenor saxophone night music (red rooms occupied by women in white, the azure, edenic images of the start gradually engulfed by crimson)

Break up the beat over the field / sound ten-in-one     I break up the pulse interrupted by the chamber ensemble: chambered ensemble chambered seashell spirals     I split the spiral against the pulse polyrhythm platypus     I split the spiral as pulsing sprawl, pulse play pornography (HOT SUMMER IN BAREFOOT COUNTY   The county girls that keep the home fires burning…!  Hot rods… Hot lips and white lightning)

Here are the secret words which Jesus the Living spoke and which were transcribed by Didymus Thomas

I search secret words and secret language     I search secret language lantern language and logos language     Language logia she lights the lights rhema     Rhema residue rhizome other ben bodies (the orchid deterritorialized by forming an image, a tracking of a wasp, but the wasp reterritoralizes that image) (Overt open eye oblong orchids)

Search olive oil serpent: serpent secrets snow     Serpent secretes spiral snow similar ice     Ice plows orthogonal to my body: orthogonal orchids perpendicular snow     clean snow cuts my bodies into paper spiral serpents     Clean snow scissors my body into hexagonal snowflakes     Snowflakes flesh flows clean snow / my bodies play snow angels then don’t eat the yellow snow

Secret snow and hidden snow     I have often suspected that there may be in the air some yet more latent qualities or powers different enough from all these, and principally due to the substantial pairs or ingredient, where of it consists     Secret snow and hidden snow     Graceful glacier gods madden the airs     I oracle mad proto-indo-european sky gods and the airs compact piledriver glaciers     Air alchemys glacier philosophy stones every stone an icicle hammered into my eye     My eye imprints ink pad oxen stamped     I air oracle and my eyes project prophetic overlays ten-in-one (hot rods and hot lips)

Red rooms occupied by women in white reverb secret word and hidden sayings     Red room reverberates mystic rose like a rose among thorns so my beloved among maidens

Red room ricochets mystic roses my love like a red red rose newly sprung in june     I jazz june sprung rhythm / pulse relayed red rooms     Red room rarefied air condensed rubies   air condensed rabbit ears   ear nose throat tachyon rabbits

Red room listens to Taylor Swift My Tears Ricochet 

Krystal says it’s weird my trash can is here in the middle.  Thoughts?  Krystal says, make sure Christina knows that’s where it lives, that’s where it stays.  Is it always there? says Christina.  Yeah, it’s funny!  I think most people put their trashcans out of the way.  That location wouldn’t work for my house because Fox runs from one side of the room to the other constantly.  ALL the furniture regularly pushed to the ides of the walls.  You don’t walk into it at night? Says C.  No, I’m not here at night.  Krystal is making fun of me so hard right now for it.  If we were all in the same room we would be roasting you, says C.  Like… for a long time.  Dang you guys are harsh.  It’s just easy prey, says C.  And it’s not like it means you're stupid or something.  It’s just curious.  And funny! says Christina.

My room rampaged red     My room rampages mad red air     Air impacts my bodies luminiferous aether / aether drags against my body invisible violet stained glass

My room ransacks red and the trash can cannibalizes PKD’s trash layer (The resemblance of Runciter’s communicating with the people via the trash of the gutter, the debris such as folders, the labels of spray cans, etc…)     I love debris: I love debris dusk desert and my hands communicate pornographic gestures (The lustful story of a woman searching for forbidden thrills!  LOVE-STARVED HELL-CAT)     I tune the trash as skeleton marimba and my mallets make melody out of mulch and manure     I temper trash into a sidewider orichalum ouroboros and the circles air strange snows     Secret snows strum hidden air and aether

Summer snow selves secret air     For this is not as many imagine a simple and elementary body, but a confused aggregate of effluviums from such differing bodies, that, though they all agree in constituting one great mass of fluid matter, yet perhaps there is scarce a more heterogeneous body in the world     Summer snow selves secret air and air carves music is the healing force of the universe

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form

Like Albert Ayler, I try to get more form the free form: I want the both directions at once     I want the both directions at once ten-in-one oracles and orchid     Ten-in-One The Zombies Odessey and Oracle     I float the form flattened onkyo and I improvise a wide reverberation round sound red room     Round sound red room mellows women dressed in white

Mixolydian mode more matterhorn     matterhorn horns of the altar bright blood red: red sun red room

Red room through silver in blood blurred     Locust star stir trash layer aeons and archons     Red sun red room archon secret air aeon

The Revenge Of Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments

Play everything I could possibly play     Play everything I could possibly play I could try anything     All mediums used to the maximum

I take myself too seriously so I play     I move my body dance between desert my body automobile sculpture autodeconstruction     I play avant-garde jazz and free jazz     I play Olivier Messiaen Tarungalila-Symphonie and I hymn I sing now joy despite bodies decaying something else     I play the something else anyway     I play the shape of jazz to come and the shape of punk to come anyway

I search for that new sound in my body with my body: my body dragged ragged rhythm harmolodics     Harmolodics word wilderness her labyrinth of my languages

I listen to Ornette Coleman’s Body meta, a record with his band Prime Time and they improvise harmolodic funk and free funk, and my flesh feels free funk fat rhythm tetragrammaton     My flesh widens word a legato free funk liquid she lights the lights, and my body dances sidewind word serpenttime, something over electric electric rhythms doubled bodies

A common link between Albert Ayler moving music to even higher frequencies and Ornette Coleman’s marriage of heaven and hell funk harmolodics: the drumming of Ronald Shannon Jackson (I almost forget he also played with the incredible free jazz noise group Last Exit)     I write a simultaneously more rigid and freer funk rhythm     Sprung rhythm spring heel jack urgrund joy     Joy buzzer orgasm ungrund: garden gruppen gaps writing river writing     Writing rhizome writing

I return to rhythm     I revive rhythm experiments     I edit a post for my blog for August 22, 2023 entitled “Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments” and I return to these experiments to revise, reflect, expand, and extend: extend more earth free funk simultaneous     Prime time double trio larger rhythm and more expansive rhythm (perhaps analogous to what John Coltrane said on using two basses: to make the time more plastic)

I write freer funk rhythm my boy bold brushstroke breath music

(I copy directly from my past writing and the blog post):

I read an article about how to play rhythmically like Charlie Parker and decide to borrow some of its practice tips (I did credit the author in my original writing: it’s from an article on Jazz Advice entitled “The Powerful Rhythmic Principles of Charlie Parker” published on December 25, 2018 by the author Forrest – no last name given): phrasing through barlines like Yardbird     Start in the middle of a bar: learn to start and end a phrase anywhere in a measure…     Start phrases on upbeats often: by starting your phrases on upbeats, you’ll force yourself ot play rhythms that move your phrases through barlines     Push your phrases to beat one and keep paying and end your phrases in the middle of the bar     Play through at least one barline per phrase…

I pick the following statement from some pulps or men’s magazine:  VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

(Write various rhythm experiments with this phrase)

Vampire     Vampire Vampire     Vampire vampire aporia     Aporia vampire aporia     Aporia vampire vampire aporia     Aporia Castlevania’s Vampire Killer (a quick aside: my second favorite Castlevania game, after Symphony of the Night, is Portrait of Ruin     Its main flaw: the last few portraits / areas are recycled from areas earlier in the game, but I still feel it’s a strong Castlevania game)

Vampire Killer the empire never ended vampire     Neil young vampire blues     I dream an imaginary painting by Edvard Munch entitled Blue Vampire     Vampire empire: a more rigid vampire rhythm alongside a more free vampire rhythm     Vampire double quartet simultaneously and I play first album length improvisation

It seems to me you like my writing line by line but not paragraph by paragraph, I say.  That’s a fair assessment, says Asia.  I think I could send you any random line and you will probably like it.  It’s just being barraged by it makes it a sensory short circuit, like watching a Michael Bay film.  That's pretty accurate, says Asia.  I have a suggestion.  Feel free to toss this aside, but what if you did your usual thing for two or three paragraphs and broke it up with a slow bit of narrative or commentary.  I’ve seen it done in poems before.  Like it gives it something solid to grab onto.  Bonus points if it’s a drastically different tone, says Asia.  That’s a solid idea, I say, and it is something I have been sort of experimenting with in an obscure way, like writing a metacommentary on my creative process.  I want to do it in a way where it is still literary and poetic and not dry and didactic; and in a way that doesn’t close off other interpretations or openings, I say.  It can still be poetic but drastically reduce the alliteration and have long, complicated sentences in that section.  That will help break it up, make the reader slow down and give you a chance to emphasize the theme you’ve been building or let the piece be a solid anchor that secures the rest, says Asia.  Would long complicated sentences defeat the point though of accessibility?  No, long complicated sentences aren’t complicated to read but do a magic trick where you literally make time slow down, says Asia.  Lots of descriptive detail adds to this effect too, says Asia.  I was using our conversations as a kind of anchor I thought, but we weren’t directly talking about the Book, I say.  I think your idea is good and I want to try it.  What I don’t want to do is what CG Jung did to his Red Book and Black Books.  He took his visions reduced them to scientific “respectable” language, I say.

I obsess rhythm and I feel flesh rhythm raspberry rainwater waters     I engage in rhythm experiments because I hope the rhythmic oddities breaks my brain open into something less subjective     I feel too subjective and I find myself caught up too much in my own tastes and aesthetics     I try to write beyond my brain using the aleatoric, cut-up machines, and other mechanical manglings of texts, and various exercises and experiments     I attempt to write something truly new to me, playing without memory writing without memory

VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

Vampire     Vampire vampire vengeance     Vampire vampire libertine vibrations     Vampire videotape volumes     Vampire video drone vulgar volumes (the battle for the mind of North American will be fought in the video arena – the videodrome…)

Vampire leopard vasectomy / Stations of the cross castration

Vampire leopard she lights the lights varicella videodisc / Stations of the cross chickenpox     (My body blisters bitches brew)

Vampire leopard verapamil / Vampire verb calcium channel blocker bitches brew     Imaginary blue witches blue witch dreams

Albert Ayler really opened me up as far as playing, says Ronald Shannon Jackson.  I had never really experienced totally playing before.  Up until then, my work had been playing the background: the “ching-ching-a-ding” line where you played like this person.  You played in a groove like Blakey or Max or Philly Joe, and at that time Tony Williams was riding the crest of the jazz wave.  You played like them or you weren’t playing!  Albert was the type of person who wouldn’t say “I want this” or “I want that”.  He’d just say “Play!  Fill it up with sound!”

I write TOTAL PLAYING     I write TOTAL PLAY animal aporia ark anarchy     Total play Sun Ra Arkestra     The Page as Sprawl was the Page as Field – this very page that overwhelms Asia with its bombs over baghdad drum n’ bass shock and aw – is my attempt to play total, to play everything, to fill up the page with sound     Not just a LOUD SOUND but a DYNAMIC SOUND     Sound with the imagined vinyl warmth, the lived-in experienced sound     This multidirectional simultaneous everything at once overwhelms me because there’s so much to write – nevertheless, I keep writing

Would you like to brainstorm some techniques with me then?  Sure.  Let’s take a short example of something you read the other day and we can try and figure it.  OK.  I thought maybe this would be a good starting point, I say:

Yahweh inflicts violence body fixed point fire     Yahweh inflicts violence female bodies and her death has the scent of roses (Mary Mother of God mystic rose like a rose among thorns so is my beloved among maidens     Eva Frank maiden iron maiden     Rose assembly of Israel)

Here's the main text.  For a commentary text, maybe something like this:

I read Bible word wrapped around my Brain and I cannot extinguish the visions of genocide and violence, of Yahweh demanding the blood of native Canaanites: animals, women and children; I imagine thousands of human bodies slaughter for the sake of a national god, by an invading force coming to take what God says is rightfully theirs... My mind juxtaposes it with the most delicate of images: the rose.  The Rose from the Song of Solomon, the Rose of the Beloved, sometimes interpreted as Christ and the Church, and as Israel and Yahweh.  The Rose too is bloody; human blood, and sometimes animal blood of sacrifices.  I dip the rose in Blood, and Eva Frank, the daughter of the great Jewish Apostate Jacob Frank, appears to me as a potential Messiah, as the Shekinah, and she too fails to cease the violence of God.

I just wrote this off the top off my head, stream-of-consciousness, so you tell me if this is what you were thinking of.  That’s probably a bit more detailed than it needs to be, and I would probably not write commentary on such a small segment like that, but just as a proof of concept.  I like that a lot, says Asia.

I decide to write something else like I always do, but I will return to rhythm and rhythm experiments like I always return to everything     It’s all related and remains the same thought and same Book even if Asia doesn't see the continuity (Asia always-already experiences the continuity)

Enter – Prime Time in forming a harmolodic band, where the needs of the composer and the players found challenging questions     Prime Time is not a jazz, classical, rock or blues ensemble     It is pure harmolodic where all forms that can or could exist yesterday, today, or tomorrow can exist in the now or the moment without a second

I listen to Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler and I write Fill It Up With Sound     I write FILL IT UP WITH SOUND

My writing is a mess / my writing is a mezzo-soprano     I sing syntactical ghost trance music interchangeable instrumentation     voices improvise similarly, strip the vowels but leave the voice (voice voices videodrome tonality diamond more than television)

Tonality diamond more than television (Before I was shot, I always thought I was more half-there than all-there – I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life.  People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen in life that’s unreal.   The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television – you don’t feel anything.  Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television.  The channels switch but it’s all television.)

Television sets compose my skeleton     Television sets compact my skeleton     Television torques hook human / son of man machine maximum: maximum bodies maximum rocknroll holly holy roller rat fuck     Fuck fat backbeat bodies flesh free funk

Fill The Page With Sound

Ten-in-One show     Ten-in-One show Taryn     I show tent tease (intense past tense intense future intense)     I show tent tense interpretation Torah

Here is a hypothetical question, says Asia.  If I were to say “your writing is shit” or said something that you interpreted that way, would you then believe that you didn’t deserve to live or that you are a useless person because of it?  Yeah I think so, I say.  You’re pointing out that my writing and my self are not easily disentangled in my brain, but if we have to burn everything to make a new ben, that’s worth it in the long run, I say.  OK, so you see how that poisons the well a bit, right? Says Asia.  Like, I HAVE to like your writing; it’s not something that happens organically.  Not that I don’t like your writing but it’s now wrapped up in your self-wroth that your writing is one of my favorite pieces of literature or you are worthless, she says.  You asked me and I answered honestly, I say.  I don’t want to lie to you.  I understand and appreciate it, says Asia.  I’m just starting to think about this situation from another angle.  We might need a new boundary in regards to your writing.  I don’t really want to keep engaging with it if it’s so drastically wrapped up in your self worth.  I need you to start separating the two, says Asia.

Two talk two     Two talk two two speak two ben blues     ben blues bitches brew     Bitches brew beat blues ben body: ben body two     ben two body blue bathers     ben two body blue whale blue bathers

ben bathers large bathers

ben bathers large bathers blue / bitches brew barracuda     Big fish big riff raptor     Two raptors rip two slayer riffs

Two teeth     Two teeth tar torah two teeth tear my temple speaks tent stone / tent peg through my skull

Two teeth tick blue lyme hymn blunt weapon hymen     Two anthem autumn sonata sonata serpent blues     Two serpent blues cue ball hues / snooker serpents     Snooker serpents hookah hangman train whistle     Train whistle twin tonic pendulum     Twin tonic pendulum progressive tonality / I write my Book as a Mahler Symphony

Two symphonies two selves (deals out that being indoors each one dwells: SELVES – goes itself; myself in speaks and spells)

I contemplate Asia’s language: to disentangle my self from what I perceive as my self: this book as ben, ben blue bitches brew bastard book, this ben-book potpourri or hodgepodge apocalypse aporia languages     This ben-Book selves, splits capitalism and schizophrenia sabbatean serpents     This ben-Book selves strange stone keystone: keystone khora     Keystone khora within the churchyard found the philosopher's stone     Philosopher's stone sprung rhythm heather     I mimic Gerard Manley Hopkins’ sprung rhythm and I experience his selves self melancholy and self priest, and my two tarots hierophant and high priestess     ben two tarots talons old Christianities and old religions     ben two selves not sabbaths but speartime serpents and I wake and feel the fall of dark, not day     I, too, sing sonnets of desolation (my book-body abomination of desolation and desolation of desolations)

Ben, you should keep writing, says Asia.  I want to engage with your writing.  I enjoy reading it and critiquing it.  But I don’t like how you feel like you are worthless and deserve to die if I don’t think your writing is the best thing ever made.  I don’t like how often you spiral because of it.  I don't like how your writing becoming my absolute favorite is the only option that will keep my friend alive, says Asia.  I understand, I say.  I’m just feeling really unhappy about it.  But I don’t think you’re wrong.  I don’t care if it’s unhealthy.  The writing will outlive me.  It’s more important than me so it has to be the best it can be, I say.  To me, your writing will never be more important than you, says Asia.  Yeah, I see that, I say.  I do want the writing to be your favorite literature.  And that’s a fine goal on its own, says Asia, but not if you won’t accept any other option, she says.

ben write bite blue     ben write bone rhizome blue bartender and I drink writing Francis Bacon’s abusive lovers     blue bone baby beluga / bonfire benders

ben write ten-in-one batmite and I unstraighten silver age Batman     I embrace and rewrite Grant Morrison’s Batman

Write random river stochastic rhizome (the idea for a Book: to lay everything out on the plane of exteriority on a single page: a broken chain of affects and variable speeds, accelerations and transformations, always in relation with outside)

I write outside open rings     I write outside outside stars stones human skeletons     I write outside outside then outside entirely bodies (sultry as the southern sun, wild desire throbbed in her passion soul THE WARM FLESH)

I write daylight and egg white     I write daylight dogbite and egg white eyes flashlight     My eye cases turntable experiments (Taryn Trickaufnahme)     My eyes accelerate decelerate two phonographs simultaneously simultaneous two selves     My selves slip serpents uncertain experiments and I search my eyes blue tint vinyl violences

Ten-In-One Show     Show snow sides how sideways wonderwall

It is impossible for me to write the book so it’s one of your all time favorites? I say.  No, it’s not impossible, says Asia.  I don’t know how to make it my favorite.  All my favorites ere found by accident and I definitely didn’t play a role in shaping them.  I’ve never been in this situation before, she says.  Can I ask what some of your current favorites are?  I still like Mary Oliver.  I really enjoyed Mexican Gothic.  I’m currently reading Octavia Butler but I don’t know if she’s one of my favorites.  I like the way Ursula Le Guin writes sometimes but I need to read more from her.  I like Ray Bradbury too, she says.  What do you think is the main thing my writing lacks that your other favorites have?  That's a hard question, says Asia.  It’s not very fair because most of them besides Mary Oliver are narratives.  A lot of them explore universal human themes but other works of literature do that and don’t manage to be my favorite, says Asia.

Ten-In-one Show     Show snow sideshow sideways wonderwall     Wall spider speedrun     Sideshow swim slaughter suspiria

I spin thread human: I spin thread haunted house human     Human hurries her three mothers (Three mothers generate / in habit a cinematic world informed by Jungian archetypal imagery, each holding sway over a particular city)     I hum human husks the night he came home!

From now on, awake or asleep, remember that you have seen the human son and have spoken with him and have listened to him     Shame on those who have seen the human son

I discard my human     I discard my human you are the one who writes and the one who is written     I discard the writing set my body ablaze     I burn Book alphabet beta radiation letters

I often think of the song Push The Sky Away by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: I got this feeling I just can’t shake I got a feeling that just won’t go away You’ve got to just keep on pushing it keep on pushing it push the sky away

I bush Book and burn ben but the bonfire blazes new breath

I burn Book to the blood and bone and Jesus said, I have cast fire upon the world, and look I’m guarding it until it blazes

I set my body ablaze and fires flood book her warm flesh

Ben, you should keep writing, says Asia

Sideshow swim sleet neat suspiria, the copper spray blood son of man and bone human one (the film shot in normal eastman color kodak then printed using the three-step technicolor-process utilizing one of the last remaining three strip machines)     Suspiria swing she lights the lights and I see Levana in my dreams     Her slasher film faust famine / emaciated calves devour fat calves but remain emaciated     Suspiria swims cremation machine ashes asia among river beetles secret agents     Asia double agent desert doppelganger gang of four floor spread beetles     The swimmer by John Cheever shrinkwraps surreal suspiria stretched stations of the cross

The Swimmer by John Cheever     sideshow slipstream party streamer     Johnny hates jazz shattered dreams

I saw one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him

I trace my script as scripture ho huios tou anthropou     Anthropou topos snail trails Taryn gospel     Gospels generate / inhabit a cinematic world informed by jungian archeytpal imagery, each holding sway over a particular city     My book strands sword cityscapes Lady Book of Sand

Christina feels the writing is incredibly important and I think it is probably her favorite piece of literature, I say.  So there are people in my life who feel that way.  I never really had someone I creatively engaged with like you, who was in the middle of my writing.  Not thinking it as nonsense and not thinking it was prophetic power literature stuffs.  I find that challenging to me and you having that position helps me give some perspective outside of myself.  I only feel two ways about my writing: genius or complete shit.  You liking it as a favorite would be proof to me as an objective viewpoint verifying it… I acknowledge if you do end up having it as your favorite maybe I would have to find another person to “convert”, I say.  I’m sorry, says Asia, but that idea was a little funny to me.  Just the idea of you having to find someone else if I do end up loving it.  Just the idea of you finally reaching this important milestone then being like, “right, ok, moving on”… I think this shows the issue actually has nothing to do with your writing and comes from your low self worth, says Asia.  Yeah, I think so, I say.  I think you’re right.  Do you think it’s possible for me to continue having my goal be among your favorite writers and also work on my self worth?  Yes, I think it’s possible but you do still have to separate the two, says Asia… Hey I’m proud of you, says Asia.  I know you haven’t really done anything yet but the fact I was able to have this conversation with you at all is testament to how much you’ve already done, she says.

I work     I work you are the one who writes and the one who is written     I work the strange whir of word: word womb sculpture     I work the repetition of work raw material materials     I work doubt and ugly (Ellie was a girl who couldn’t say no UNWILLING SINNER)     I gut my body written unwilling ugly and I swim shit shame on those who have seen the human one

Ten-In-One / haunted repeated homophonic blocks of sound the lady with the hammer     Ten-In-One totentanz the lady with the hammer haunted     Horror haunted house homophonic skulls / narrow and obscure skull     I write explicit ugly and accidental ugly (no man can hold what the darkness can sow gonna leave an ugly skull when you go)     I work skulls uglies animated cup mixer and taster     I shed skull hull hacksaw inhabited human     Uninvited skull inverted skull ugly     Undo ugly and I use ugly skulls as skipping stones

Ugly umber umber umbra stomach ulcers     I write ugly with writing utterances     Skull narrow arrow ugly (illustration of the cosmic order by Robert Fludd, where the world soul is depicted as a woman)     My body birds cosmic skull scratches a river many single things going to almost the same place at almost the same time

I feel frustrated with this writing: it seems ugly and awkward and unintuitive     I want to write something like Higgs Boson blues or the tenor saxophone surreal shark of bells     I want to get hit in my skull fractal fracture unhinged flesh sumptuous ugly     My accidental unwilling ugly imitates the uninteresting: I want my ugly interesting and intriguing     I want to write Julius Eastman GAY GUERRILLA and FEMENINE, an organic music that bursts a mighty fortress is our god and be thou my vision

Higgs boson blues boston microtonal society

Write Albert Ayler bell smears vibrates intuitive improvisation     My skull crashes ugly melody monitor lizard

After I made GHOSTS and SPIRITUAL UNITY I sent all the records to Coltrane to help give him the direction.  He is a spiritual brother and one that can really hear music of all different kinds.  After I sent those records, the next thing I heard was ASCENSION, and it was beautiful, everything was building, everyone was screaming

I need Albert Ayler to appear to me in a dream and give me music and melodies and records he’s been making in the Palm Tree Garden     I want Albert Ayler’s ghost GHOSTS and spirit SPIRITUAL UNITY to help give me direction

New Directions by Miles Davis     New Directions by Ben-Adam and Ben-Hinnom

I continually search for something, something I don’t know yet, but new music new expression new writing

I search for that HOLY GHOST truly ghost gap christianity yet christianity crucified eli eli lama sabachthani

I rewrite my skull as holy ghost hourglass hour of the wolf stained glass     I rewrite my skull wolf skull witch word and holy ghost bewitches bitches brew blue

(The old ones called it the hour of the wolf.  It is the hour when most people die, when most children are born.  Now when is nightmares come to us.  And if we are awake… we’re afraid.  We’re afraid.)

I awake to my skull as my skull     A skull as a skull brush bare stainless steel     Skull terminates sheet termite tenet / my skull steers forwards and backwards stunt car parallel parking     Parking lot skull concrete

I rewrite skull ten-in-one overlapping rhizomes inside-outside the plane of consistency     Ten-In-One skull skateboard open ring suspiria language     Language tenebroso book Taryn cartoon transformers     I throw my skull as a skipping stone across waters and it boomerangs back to bodies     I throw my skull as a projectile and overhead projector and the transparency transports my body as bellwork     I work my skull and rewrite my skull     I throw my skull stormbreaker shell burst barrage garage rock rumpelstiltskin

Ten-In-One trills pterodon wings winged wagyu beef     Ten-In-One anoints skull olive oil x-files: my skull deforms ancient aliens, the three eyed ancestors of Akhenaten

My brain feels brine-haunted haunted kindergarten black iron prison

He called me.  He started playing gigs together down at the Lafeyette Theater.  I’ve been playing by myself a lot and I’d play duos and trios and orchestras and choirs, but never with someone who told me to play everything I could possibly play.  It blew my mind.  I could try anything.

I imitate Ronald Shannon Jackson playing with Albert Ayler: play everything I can possibly play     I fill the page with sound     I fill page HOLY GHOST god everlasting gobstopper experiments     I write swung polyrhythm then multidirectional