A Secant Query

Between Big And Survival

Between Big and Survival

🎶 You Can't Always Get What You Want - Erika de Casier

Where It Goes

Death. It's a cough of a word - and not the kind that goes away, but the kind that blows in with the foul weather until thecough and the breath are roommates. Both doing the work of the other, leaving both feeling at once alone and desparate and irredeemable.

Death's its moments of public relations (/positive connotation) but most of its PR is as a stimulant. How there is coffee - music - everywhere. These boost productivity as much as sales. A sweet spot exists - loud, but not too loud. A soft pink noise - coffic lyrics.

Somehow, a sweet spot exists for death. Too much coffee causes induces anxiety; too much death leaves a numbness. A healthy community has at least one person riddled with anxiety. And at least one person hollow with numbness. It'd have its music that earwork. A same playlist, if lightly edited; concrete but it's tunes - blacktop.

Deep Participation

It's not my phrase. Some Black sex-positive elder born a hundred years ago said it in an essay. Deep is a word thrown around today. Research and development made real estate, deep means the drag (the walls of the coming world) blooms alive. The neighbor can feel, often does. The walls of the branching world. Each leaf of this another death.

Another place where reality sinks teeth. And the bones notice. And shutter. Image (description: Crocadile teeth sport, on gums, bumps - pain, to listen to the fish).

The world fades, the leaf rots. Marcesce. Like the emoji - 🍁. Why might a dying leaf proc provokepatriotisn? What brings people to praise rot. How is rot any positive transformation. Look at conifers: old growth conifers rot for eons. Some, embalmed by pyroclactic flow, petrify. Never to rot again, stone now. Others rot into the next ice age. Ride the glacier like a wave.

Light to the Moon

Does it feel nice, being here? Reading this? The bits rotting beneath their meanings. The language built cradle to cradle. How an ocean might be audience. Or ejecta. What spirals out. Holds its shape. Underflows into perception. For it only to flow forward. Trees become surfers (surfers rendered trees). Integrating as language work - bringing in.

The process ambiguous from the algorithm. And then suddenly, separate once more. The world ahead branches, roots sink. Deep watering. Feeling the world find its footing. Cut its teeth. Speak ejecta as earth spoke moon. Maybe every star is a leaf. A supernova a[...]jection still happening. Still deciding what lives in ellipses. The marginalia the present then occupies. Now doesn't. Every word alive.

No ellipses here - no mystery here. Save the inflection brought - quantum inflection. As your read, am I sausy? Spicy? World-weary? How are you giving me voice (how are you@it , maybe)? Concrete? Every how-are-you one from some song - song never able to leave the playlist. Load-bearing song. Proof it happened. Time being wanted doing what matters.

As your read, I'd—

Love To Ask You

🎶 https://www.bing.com/videos/...↩

📑 Uses of the Erotic, Audre Lorde ↩