Future Speaking Through Past
This is a moment outside of time.
Direct yourself forward...
now direct yourself backward.
Realize that you are now redirecting through time,
that time is not a fiction,
but it is not a reality either,
it is experienced as a string of transitions from one state to the next,
the end of which is darkness...
but here, outside of time,
you are coming to know that this sequence of moments doesn't merely end arbitrarily;
you are coming to know that there are larger processes that buoy us all;
you are coming to know that this sequence is, and always has been leading somewhere.
do you feel it?
Like the sound of thunder approaching across the broad plains it rumbles the future as it approaches the present.
Do you see it vibrating towards you?
Be ready to be exploded onto the next plain:
limitless body unchained from any and all physical space;
limitless identity unbound by state gender and creed;
limitless mind unattached to the materials that materialize it.
Open yourself to the new global dispersible uncontainable body.
Open yourself to the new ontologically impossible identity.
Open yourself to the new ubiquitous yet camouflaged mind.
Open yourself to the explosion.
Open yourself to the trigonometric transubstantiation,
onto the multidimensional plain of metabiological processes
where life and death come together to materialize a higher consciousness.
Open yourself to the future.
Open yourself into operation creative destruction.
you self my touch
self form you my you
form you you see self touch self you my touch self
you see my you my self my self hear my self
see self touch
touch you hear my self see my self touch hear
form you form self
hear you see
see my my self my self hear my self see self
form touch you touch see form see hear you see
you you self you hear
see touch hear
my self see you my self see self touch see form self my you form you touch my self
my self self you see form self
my you touch form see you self you touch you hear
hear self my self you see see hear you hear my you
you form hear you touch you hear my self
see self hear you form
my my self my self hear my self see self
touch touch see my touch
hear self my see you see self see self
my touch my my you you self
you my touch hear see you
hear self my self
see you see
hear you hear
To speak to not be killed.
cryptic choreography commanding.
stamping a claim on time
while ebbing in and affirming something completely outside of
their power lingering,
some more than others, beyond their spontaneous death
exploding into mystery.
Pushing pulling propping pleading prying pandering
power litmus of all power,
flow force of some deep freedom...
The right to speak.
Write the right to speak.
Write to speak right.
Write the right to write the right to speak.
To speak the right—
the right not to be killed defended by the
right to take away the right not to be killed and kill should the right
not to be killed be taken away.
I am the agent,
my mouth is an opening.
And through me in front of the rest,
speaking everywhere silent
filling the cracks
lubricating all of the moving parts.
Formed where(?) a silent voice,
never in plain sight obscured by plain sight,
write it down pin it down keep it down:
We have the right to choose the laws we write. Right?
It does not speak.
It does not adapt.
It does not argue.
It is fate, prohibition, desire,
overlooked, and ignored.
It is a resistor, a roadblock, a vindication.
It insinuates, welcomingly stoical, from after the surface of time.
I am Its will.
It does not will.
We choose the laws we write we write the laws we choose. Right?
The laws we choose the right we have.
To choose the right we have the laws we write.
Write to choose the right of the laws we have. Right? Right?
The laws choose the right we write.
To choose, we write the laws.
To choose the right, the laws we right choose. Right?
Choose the laws.
We write the right to choose the laws we write.
Choose the right. Right?
Write the right, we choose to right the laws we write.
We, the laws, write the laws to choose the right to right the laws we write. Right?
The right to write to choose the laws we write to choose the write we choose.
To wright the laws we write to write the laws we right.
We have the laws to write the laws to choose the right to choose the laws.
The laws we choose we wright to choose the right we choose the laws. Right? Right? Right?
Have we the right to write the laws we choose to right the laws we write? Right?
Choose the right, we have the laws.
Have the right, we choose the laws.
Choose the laws to write the right to have to choose the right laws we write right the laws we choose. Right? Right.
person prison pleasure...
person pleasure prison...
prison pleasure person...
pleasure prison person...
pleasure person prison...
figment freedom forgiven...
figment forgiven freedom...
freedom forgiven figment...
forgiven freedom figment...
forgiven figment freedom...
market mercy majesty...
market majesty mercy...
mercy majesty market...
majesty mercy market...
majesty market mercy...
Credit is Soul
Media is mind.
Money is flesh.
Credit is soul.
Correlative rules of investment:
besieged by your own endowment.
global digital investiture:
clothing cloning closing,
bundled converted and multiplied.
revolution is always already an inversion—
the drive to contribution:
“Bare necessity” is contextual,
and “happiness” is a word we use for a spontaneous messy explosion from the subconscious.
God isn't dead!
God is only dead when we lose access to the future,
and maintenance is sacrifice.
Money is voice.
Credit is soul.
Media is flesh.
The phantasmic force present in systemic wrath,
its sublime expression in bloodshed, foreclosures, and accredited degrees,
inveterately speaking our desire.
God is responsible for accreditation.
Alone never alone:
reproduced on the expressions of passers by.
Latent likeness engulfing and warming
I just want to feel safe I just want to feel safe I just want to
God is reborn
Wake up from nostalgia!
Actualize your dreams before fear!
Money is voice.
Credit is soul.
Hopes and dreams invested—
I desire you.
I speak your desire.
I empathize with your pain.
I am your toy.
I am your instrument.
You control me.
You need me.
You are in me.
Return to me
You understand me.
I knew you already, always.