last but not
im like dean kissick but a girl
The internet is a crown of thorns. Infinite and accelerating points of attention, fractals of conflict, the pain brings us joy. Completely still in our bodies we experience this suffering only mentally. Attention perfected for nothing. But why only mental? In the dual skeleton of code, there is void instead of paradox, there is box no pandora. This is a chaos dressed in a million points of light - all are thorns. An exponential infinitesimal web, invisible and all encompassing, our crown of thorns made new every day, every time we look at it. In this looking, it has become a stage we have forced reality to play on, cast out the body from the tower into the brambles and blinding him, we have trapped angels.
This binary world metabolises time so fast, and God Can Not Exist On It, only his products. This is his bastard child, really sired by the powers of 2 small evils, called good and evil, this good is in fact good without the Good. an evil which can look good and a good which can look evil. devils teaching us all the ways of garments of skins, glass and masks and scripts.
This world full of points of attention that prick us without pain, sensation mental, not in our bodies, so that soon we forget sleep, forget touch, become friends with ghosts, all there is is stimulation without stimulation. What is light but a cause? That is how time is metabolised swiftly, all cause no effect. Just cause, cause, cause . cause . cause . cause . cause . cause . cause . cause . How quickly life accelerated out of the depths. Yes yes of course (cause), they say data moves like oceans, I am washed under these potentialities, these lights that blend into one artificial sun, the illegitimate son, and the internet is forever without leaving a trace. How no one remembers a cry in the ocean, how it blends into the primordial screeching ringing pain of nothing and everything and no form, the sound of waves, the sound of white noise. Memory of a time before form, excruciatingly painless time.
But where the ocean is a chaos naked, the chaos of the internet is the garment without a host, skeletal web, surrounding (.) No touch, no effect. Cause, cause, cause, exponential causes , 1 dimensional mess of points, web with no spider, only infinite prey. Devouring cause devouring cause devouring cause eating and no building.
Utterly still and hypnotised. Time metabolised until I see how this is Nogod, and remember what is behind my right ear holding the back of my neck. ANd each time I am pricked into confusion, I remember this pattern, but I still cannot rip myself from it, because the contrast feels so like God, so how I imagine God, the pain and the no pain of staring into the false sun(son). Effect , effect , effect , effect , effect , effect where is it? This pure, abstract effect, stimulating nothing, so quickly forgotten like the thorns themselves. Back to the pricking, seeking to ripping. I want to feel the pain again, pain without pain. Suffering which is the bridge to God, but on this crown of thorns I may suffer-to not-suffer, I sit perfectly still and comfortable. I cheat my glory.
Consume, consummate, exponentiate, exudate.
Meta means death you know, don’t forget the infinite loop is not our destination
NO W HERE IS THE BODY OF THE TEXT:
My angel has It’s attention on me
living It’s life in heaven to keep me on Earth,
my spirit dressed in me
and all the while I have my attention always on this I(nternet)ified Self
The I without Self, the garment, ghost no host, secondself in secondworld
(ummmmm what do i mean)
This Interneted self is to me what I am to my angel
of course bastardised, disproportionate
The equivalence is only the attention
on this self without self, this garment only
while My angel has It’s attention on my self in earthly dress
a self in bondage to suffering, so that it might learn that which is impossible without a body (how the 3iad is manifest, how limits create infinities)
but all the while here i am directing It to this empty persona, this nothing non ghost in non shell who I love and adore and protect, who i influence and emend and perfect, who i attend to more than my self
we are all anonymous, without name, without a mark of Identity which is eternal and true, which is connected to the angel. angel may mean name and anonymous may not be freedom. nondescription, omittance is a lie
all this mental suffering, the moon is not the sun,
i want to touch the perfect mind with the body this time
i can’t find you i am blind and i wish to touch but i have sacrificed my feet for a voice and my hands for a script
God wears me like a glove, and i dress in this glove of nothing
i wished to be naked but could only wear nothing
the Earth, especially Man on Earth, (the whole embodied hierarchy itself) is 10 (Malkuth)
1 which is God and 0 which is Not Yet God, and combined in a way that isn’t either or even a combination, entirely larger (and so less significant) body. One cause followed by its infinite effects. Branching, not brambling.
And as play gods, as creators who are first creatures, we have invented a kingdom of 0s and 1s. Created a new number entirely, which is infinite but nothing more than ineffectual randomness (cause cause cause), so it cannot be manifest, it is irrepresentable yet it exists, and has created a second world without consequence. a real stimulating world with no history and no memory, no touch, a place which learns and in which we cannot learn. Infinitely regenerating without touch, asexual, amorphous, a beast, a crown of thorns. Chaos first, participation second -1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-11-1—11-1-, one effect followed by infinite causes. How can I explain this to you? You are living in a mirrored world, everything eating, nothing added, everything forseen, nothing remembered, the world predicts you, you are it’s effect, and you are being eaten without pain.
—BTW: This was written a long time ago, and it is the final word. Thank god for the lack, for the lack of recognition, for the lack of understanding, for the lack of celebration, for the lack of proper placement, for the lack of experience, we all are going about this wrong. It is absolutely vital that life remain dressed in itself. God has His eyes closed but has faith in us like a candle in a deserted room.