bare thee grimly

this is a record of an i moving through techno-capitalism in environmental visible form, an autoethnography translated from an anthropological body into a surrealistic textual landscape, an eremitic emiceticism, a needle on the sensations of a quantum animism stretched over voids larger than death.

i place my body between nature and the city, between their langwiches, in the vats of their incompatibility and incommunicability, along the signless and signed paths that wind between them, howling and still, in the nothings in the centers of the centers of their sameness.  and i do not move but the city moves through me and these words are tracings of its movings.

my community is books and trees. i live in the city of the human.  these facts are the eyes that form my vision.

it has all been written and yet the humans only read the tablets of their greed.  i do not write but feel.  these glyphs are my heart and the page’s whiteness its truth.  i feel the meat in the ghost in the human in the machine, and this is the words.

is it the law of violence – the law of the brute – or the law of love, a whonym asked once on a train to truth.  and this human died by the train and the sword.

my loneliness is not something to be alleviated.  it is a condition of existence that i makeup to the loss of my existence.  the city is fabricated, but my loneliness is not fabricated.  i trust my loneliness and the dream it dreams when moving through the city.

i put this record and some headphones on and – perhaps there is something wrong with something – i only hear wind and howls and a strange thumping.