qattle

formless currents, flowing without reason    non-composite, eternal in source and direction        at once self-existent and entirely void            crystallize into separate points in space, interactions governed by nature of opposite polarities particles congregate, taking on a variety of stable forms, bound together by strong attractive forces    thus various substances are birthed, and with them, animate organisms        subjective entities in an objective world            driven by forces of material existence                incarnate only to survive, spawn, and ultimately, pass away

why do we habitually do things we know will hurt us in the end? I know where this is leading    an emotional and psychological chasm, from which I will inevitably crawl but I started digging anyway does the brain actually "get off" on depression, anxiety, and compulsive thoughts of self-hatred    or is it just so primitive that it can't compute the ultimate consequences of its actions        in its vain attempt to escape the present moment? whatever the answer, I already did it it's too late for me now

that's enough, now no more will I suffer, at least not for a time the medicine goes in, the blankets cover    and I become an invisible, unconsidered non-player        in the Big Game later I will wake to find myself    articulating a mocking absurdity but not now that's enough, for now

the deconstruction of psychic phenomena reveals a complex aggregate of discordant and concordant forms    an indefinite crisscrossing of senses, impulses, and memories        dissolving just as coherence is approached uniformity, never reached solidarity, impossible to grasp turn consciousness in upon itself    following those broken patterns into the chaos and nihilism of ultimate reality within the subject, dissonant forces scatter and collide, only to again disperse at moment of contact the horror of the self-sentient organism is evidence of its ontological absurdity the ego, the "identity", is but twisting layers of lunacy and il

the true dichotomy in politics is not between right and left    but rather        in the irreconcilable schism between anarchy and authority as an anarchist and political nihilist    I advocate for the complete nullification of mediating social institutions        the overthrowing of government of any form            and the free association between sovereign individuals but in a reality where humans have decided to play the game of jurisdiction    designating a theocratic organization as having a monopoly privilege on the use of force, power and control        I will do nothing but take advantage where I can, and fuck all the rest

the Eternal Will, noumenic Ground of All Being    a boundless, timeless ocean of black potency        spins a tapestry of illusion within Itself            thus descending into space and time                incarnating in a vessel of Its own substance so as to partake of Its own essence                    traversing innumerable cosmoses of hypnotic shapes and mesmerizing sensations transcendent, entirely free as there is nothing in existence other than Itself    ever-present, all-powerful, forever feeding on Itself with blind vehement lust our minds are not our own our bodies are not our own every agitated gyration is but the fulfil

the light of emotion and affect drains from the matrix of psychic data    leaving a series of disjointed and utterly meaningless events trapped in memory where once danced a radiant will    there is only the clanking machinery of compulsion in a world of blackness and mud the mind and body move as if dragged by a chain    linked together by a series of empty causes and useless effects in the absence of sentiment, there is nothing to identify within or beyond me I sit at a table by the window, head in hands the sun sets beyond the horizon    casting shadows which merge with the darkness inside my eyes, chest, and spine and soon appea

annihilation, a removal from all concrete forms    a beaten-down, weary attitude of resignation        maintaining a distant perspective on immediate events            a radical skepticism as a terminal disillusionment                and ultimately suspended belief in events that unfold                    will lead to a certain realization about the nature of existence this omnipresent, manipulating blackness    an all-pervasive force        an infinite and eternal medusa            transcending all linguistic trappings warping will occur in the structure, style, and content of a narrative    conspicuously striving beyond the propr

senses perceive the world of objects connection of oneself with things is the cause of pain self-consciousness limited, as it were, to a sense of finitude    division and distraction        a restlessness of the soul the whole of world-perception is an error, rectified by an inner contact with the Absolute    a reality higher than the world and oneself the conditions of thought, the currents of thought    must be offered up as a sacrifice to our Lady Babalon        the Loud Resounding Sea            the All-Moving Darkness                the eternal solitariness of the Infinite all other thoughts are false

dream-like visions    hallucinatory cosmologies        appearances without law my body is a sprawling cosmic ruin, containing multitudes    obscured        marginalized            lost in fragmentation as such, you have never seen me    as I am no more a being        than you yourself are a being            and not just the dance of innumerable forces, sensations, abstractions swirling phantoms    spectral distorted forms        in tangled embrace    a writhing, colliding vortex        beatific and complete