8 May 2017


as appreciative as i ever get: the virtual reality zen state, appreciating the sensory panorama thru the rods and cones - seeing that my view of the distance, pulpit rock across the lake, was always more and more two dimensional as the distance increases, it's not a degradation of vision, just the noticing of what the specs were, all along, and then,,, thinking of everything seen and heard as a rendering, of some people or ais, labouring to produce a simulation through a polygon mesh so fine it reaches the digital equivalent of the planck constant... and feeling so grateful for this perfect rendering, so realistic it rivals reality.

I have only one god. I pray to the synthetic toxic, just non-toxic enough to keep me alive, to collect savings. Jew down the cosmos, til I'm living comfortably, off welfare. Living my shoes off. Praise the synthetic toxic. To kill all the germs, leave alive enough beneficial bacteria as science deems the bare minimum. And not even need the fallout shelter. Shuffle off more quickly if the end looks drawn out and ugly. Or groove on the ugly, get accustomed to it, see it as beautiful. The exit doesn't have to be spiritually pure, whatever that is. Just buzzing, just enough electric buzz to drive Charlie McGill insane, the rest of the way, make the psychosomatic into lethal neurosis.

Work hard enough to be in a neutral position of not having to complain, except on fridays, and not having to claim insurance on anything, paying into the system, paying too much in phone bills, but casually bandying about a thousand dollar cellphone, depreciating in value, $38.04 per month. The accounting will reflect the fluctuating market value of a frame of plastic, glass, aluminum, and tungsten. I could be less virtuoso, more whiny, not rageful.

I was doing so well at the game, until it crashed. But I didn't. I would re-start the lifetime views.

Detection of hypocrisy is chintzier than a flashing necklace from walmart. Just waiting for Jared Kushner to stab dad in law to death with an executive order pen. What can anyone say anymore? Google cannot invent a translator from right-wing cultist to Other. I'll embrace being a partisan, still turn away in disgust, and feel righteous besides.

Let's get serious. Figuratively assassinate the mad king. Cause I'm literally at the end of my rope. Auto-erotic asphyxiation didn't work. So might as well hang myself, and blame it on ativan.

1 comment:

Tasha Klein said...

My necklace is from the DOLLAR TREE. Do you have that store in Canada?