I think the details of reality relinquish the utility of theory.
The essence of the moment disintegrates such academic jargon into a lugubrious web of space time lace.
If you don’t see me do I fall? If you do see me do I crash?
Crash my hydrogen engine into an elliptical belt of lycra buckling beneath the anew exponential.
The quantum shown on a fuzzy-soft-scary VHS, the hypothetical histories played out in JG Ballard and writers of such “insanity” they quote unquote you on your car insurance and inhale your soot. Just before you put for foot down step the pedal up your back side and remember that rhythm is something
Lick your frailities up with your own movement, and bypass sociality with that same movement unpeeling sensitivity to your own familiarity.
That is diversity they say, but they take a picture and strip it like a chloride duct of mine mine mine
Isn’t it lovely
Soundless like a noise ordinance
felay the leather they say before 99% pins down the wheel and steers off road into the concrete jungle wayward
paving an absence of what you turned to see behind you
the cat following you home discreetely
as if by accident
as the culture that didn’t admit roots of behavior
It will find your dances and your masochism and ensnare them in the teeth of your escape unless you play the plague and pick your battle
move forward enjoying the breeze of absurdist cattle