The Opposite of Fantasy Is Pain/

4 THE OPPOSITE OF FANTASY IS PAIN

Fear of mutilated femininity of witness to anxiety of writer

without a shadow/counteract terror of oblivions indivisible

revolt against emptiness of the spectacle of the Situation/

Who defines allocated parts when constructing the ethical? /

What space duration in comets path in next dimension

has been reopened/Stabbing holes in ript dark sky/

Hysterical joy of wreckage of pain/

Hear clock tempered pulse beats becoming mercurial a dilemma

of ascension/Whores of City of Pain/motion is no longer dynamic/

Not analogue but digital/post secular thought remains enigmatic/

No mourning/no melancholy not even destiny of eternal phillia/?

The full risk of transposing the boundaries/transgressing the Law

and its limits/We are in the territory of pure android ruin/

SKz lust and hard core drigs the protocol of data trash /

Time passes/Boy Debris waits chemical intervention

to turn into an image of himself stealing codes of erasure/

No love in the House of the Law

only a helpless thinking

of discrete linguistic moments/

He is 16 and hits the streets/

He can recognize as indicatively savage

a shaved skull a provoked suspicious split/

Invisible dimensions digitally

enhanced drag factor of betrayal/

The whole passing from point to counter point

from androgyny to castrati/

Called memory loss break up the linear recall carry out the

circumcision/The aesthetics of indifference/

Do we remember visionary events or emotional

discharges mutilations of the phallicXX?/

Queer solicitude?/The beauty of love in love with itself/

What clouds the body when the eyes shut and Effluvia

a haunted woman/Pleasure is a release from rebellion/

The hemispheres merge one to create the discourse of

an allegorical compulsion to fantasize sex as bearable pain/

One lash to bring on the performance/

One lash to betray identity from dealing with shadows/

One lash a dead end devastation that art be ineffective /

One lash to inflate the lighting of the dimensional sequences/

One dozen lashes that eludes scandal of noise in suburbia//

Whose extreme hellucinations cannot haunt him enough as

he no longer slept/He was insomniacal/

To negate something is just another way of affirming horror

of the body form with its dissolution/more essential than its

effectual decayed substances of shit pus and dead jelly fish/

Everything is loaded with metaphor with twisted demand/

To notice and to be noticed/the stranger is under the spotlight/

The unusual is equalized by supply and demand for revenge/

Now I know what revenge tastes like/why old men send young

boys to the Frontline/

Strategies of endurance unbalanced by a soft enigmatic voice/

What is the language of the unconscious disappearing

along fibre optics?/She pretends to exist while sleeping/

A prison of meanings of knotted innuendo of the

Wanted breaking out of the unwanted/

How is it translated this cybernetic impulse hotwired

and transcendental? /

The evocative text of change and constant renewal

pulls you apart/

Stand still it will dismember you/make you anonymous

Eradicate any obligations/Fantasy seeks to affirm itself by

ruining meaning distinctions and limits thresholds/

Disappears into its uselessness/driving artist to

liminal pain/

Even the imaginary scar tissue you secrete

in the blood of yr

tracks will evade your assertion/

without finding a way out/

The prophet speaks of the arrival of Guitar Over Drive/

You distress the canvas unable to tolerate expectations/

You fill the pages of yr books with pornography/

You have been in life but you know more about death/

Depersonalized killing of subjectivity/shame that is a

paradox unpredictable attacks yr repellent disgust/

You were in the presence of the present yr writing

as testimony to invisible dimensions/indications of

injustice/A slow fertile nightmare surfaces

in iron shadows/

But accuse disjecta membra of possible fragments

not yet advancing fast enough/

Light engulfing time /The smell of fear on yr breath/

Then it was like now only laid open something

lost in translation/

Attend to yr apocryphal legend Dogman/She smells him

down wind and on heat/

The curtain has been pulled and he struggles thru folds/

Un-folds new migrations/Genital desire swells in darkness/

Choking on functional discharges of gas wastes/

Dragged thru ruins of finitude erupts from hard drive/

The joy of Industrial pain/

On centralized refracting routines of thinking/

Can you endure unspeakable things knowing in the end?/

Everybody keeps their appointment with death while/

forgetting to live/

Even when he out think himself when he streams

consciousness/

Erase punctuation speak in tongues tear open

neologisms/Writing remains an erotic political act

of random simulacra/

He embalmed by genealogy of aesthetic simulated

archaeological effects./

You are clever even to understand punctuation./

You are clever to anticipate which words disguise

to this task of fatal abstraction add

enigmatic process of disambiguation/

You are at end of clawed tunnel the furthest ahead/

Within yr hands you reach a black hole that spews

you into rarefied air of non-sense and arctic polarity/

Where the mind drifts without certainty/

Fall to ground wanting to be swallowed compressed

by the weight of gravity enlightens us /

Crushed by servitude of the logical/

This elemental depth of the witnesses

which over determines fake irrational

circus of consequences?/

Of false consciousness pushed aside by Motherboard/

The Absolute Icon always takes the form of dead history/

© 20

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