The Front

[luka]

im on my last peroni shails bring me 12 cold peronis please

 

[luka]

I like it.

no ones talking to me Stan youll have to talk to me why do you like it

 

[luka]

i enjoyed learning about neuroleptics and how terrifying crude they are

 

[luka]

i would say these psych drugs are like medevil medicine. thats the level of development they're on.

 

[luka]

@linebaugh what are you doing

OF MOVEMENT TOWARDS A NATURAL PLACE

See him recall the day by moral trace, a squint
to cross-fire shewing fear of hurt at top left; the
bruise is glossed by “nothing much” but drains
to deep excitement. His recall is false but the charge
is still there in neural space, pearly blue with a
touch of crimson. “By this I mean a distribution
of neurons…some topologically preserved transform”,
upon his lips curious white flakes, like thin snow.
He sees his left wrist rise to tell him the time,
to set the damage control at the same white rate.

What mean square error. Remorse is a pathology of
syntax, the expanded time-display depletes the
input of “blame” which patters like scar tissue.
First intentions are cleanest: no paint on the nail
cancels the flux link. Then the sun comes out
(top right) and local numbness starts to spread, still
he is “excited” because in part shadow. Not will
but chance the plants claim but tremble, “a
detecting mechanism must integrate across that
population”; it makes sense right at the contre-coup.

So the trace was moral on both sides, as formerly
the moment of godly suffusion: anima tota in singulis
membris sui corporis. The warmth of cognition not
yet neuroleptic but starry and granular. The more
you recall what you call the need for it, she tells
him by a shout down the staircase. You call it
your lost benevolence (little room for charity),
and he rises like a plaque to the sun. Up there the
blood levels of the counter-self come into beat
by immune reflection, by night lines above the cut:

Only at the rim does the day tremble and shine.

 

[Clinamenic]

no ones talking to me Stan youll have to talk to me why do you like it

The way you used the technical language was like you were probing into pure cerebral noise.

 

[craner]

It's true I don't have time for anything anymore, barely enough energy left to cook a meal in the evening, slovenly, sluggish, disconnected, no inspiration

 

[luka]

its jh prynne its not me.

 

[luka]

It's true I don't have time for anything anymore, barely enough energy left to cook a meal in the evening, slovenly, sluggish, disconnected, no inspiration

well its quite hard being alive, and often very, very tedious. this is why i take drugs sometimes because it give me some respite. richer people i guess go on holiday.

 

[Clinamenic]

its jh prynne its not me.

Well then you should take that as a compliment, that I confused you with your idol.

 

[luka]

The way you used the technical language was like you were probing into pure cerebral noise.

one of things he is 'concerned' with is various ways to think about the self and how they rub up against the inherited cultural notions, and also the poetic notions of self. putting these chemical ideas up against, you get the idea

 

[luka]

how we think about boundaries and porosity

 

[Leo]

It's true I don't have time for anything anymore, barely enough energy left to cook a meal in the evening, slovenly, sluggish, disconnected, no inspiration

hope you fiancé recovered from covid, craner. maybe that wore you down a bit.

 

[luka]

we're all worried down to the nub at the moment its not a natural way of life

 

[Leo]

we complained about things pre-covid, but in retrospect and comparison to post-covid it was such a carefree time.

 

[luka]

my life hasnt changed significantly, its just less happy

 

[luka]

the joy has been leached out of the world

 

[luka]

when you go out at night now theres always an edge of hysteria in the air.

 

[luka]

people celebrating have an air of hysteria. nihilism.

 

[luka]

youre trying to escape hell not celebrate