fact is
is here
is her –
in some capacity.
Reality is not a form of experience;
it is a quality applied to forms
of experience.
My mouth is open.
My mouth–
I am speaking.
My eye–
I am thinking.
My legs–
I am ready to give,
but not to receive.
My thoughts–
angry, removed.
My voice–
matter of factly,
My thoughts–
fearful, random.
My voice–
suggestive, sweet.
Life is an endless cigarette
I am inhaling smoke.
Place this body in a room,
allow for it.
Do not exhaust the body!
A week, many days.
A year, many weeks.
A life, sleepless nights.
A life, wasted–
sulking in pretense.
Refusing to accept the ultimate compromise:
Expelled from the garden of eden.
Years spent in delusion.
Weeks spent in abundance.
Money spent–
one week.
I am dirt, wash me away.
Each day, when the clock strikes twelve, I wish there was
a way around labour.
I am infertile–
cant reproduce.
The capitalist labour market.
I am infertile.
I want to give life;
but all
shall be still born.
I have no emotion
I like conrol
I am rotten inside.
Speaking is an obsession for me.
I am talking to you right now–
but frankly,
even if you weren’t here…
Are you deaf?
Are you engaged?
I have found an engagement here.
I am grateful fo rthe engagements i receive.
I am aging–
Have i lost all sensuality?
I am afraid that we have failed each other;
If love is about understanding who another person is,
that i have failed you many times.
I have the capacity for brutality,
for cruelty.
I am good at gathering thoughts.
They pile up in my subconscious.
A personal grammar
which directs me.
None of the days of the week are what i need right now.
I place before your eyes all the material in my possession.

Let me explain–

its meaning:
Which may decompose slower than our human bodies;

You smell of sleep and tears.
I can see the pulse on your neck.
Let me say this to the audience:
We witness an animated corpse,
which reminds us of what once was.
I am a statue with the hopes of reanimation.
Give me a sedative, throw me away.
I am cold an rotten and
It is no longer viable to exploit human labour as the mouthpieces for ideology.
It is no longer viable to enlist the audience as receivers of ideology.
Commit suicide–
You can refuse to move and be silent.
Then at least you are not lying.
can shut herself in,
shut out the world.
No played roles.
No faces.
No false gestures.
Nobody asks if its real or not.
If you’re honest or a liar.
We look alike
I think i could change myself into her–
if I tried.
I mean inside.
But her soul would be too big.
It would
stick out everywhere.
A year spent in delusion.
I dont want to lie–
but i have reason to believe it’s over.
(Pretense is negation of life).
Need better pretense.
Before stretching
wash me away!
Stop making people into things.
Stop objectifying people by blaming them
for what they appear to be to you.
Legs crossed, eyes covered.
To make something that is not the case appear true.
Standing upright, leaning against the wall.
The world is all that is the case:
a false display of feelings
attitudes, intentions.
Come back tomorrow.
The practice of inventing imaginary situations in play.
How do we approach the plinth?
Affected and austentatious speech and behavior–
in the center of the room.
A claim to have a particular skill or quality.
Why is there a plinth?
Where is the script?
Where can i sit down to rest?
Where can I lie down to die?
How can i annihilate myself?
So that i dont have to make these choices anymore.
A choice is a plinth to sit on.
A gesture is a frozen intention.
Nobody can afford such insecurity.
Time is money.
time is tic tac–
Time is strategy!
Money is time.
What can form afford?
How can we afford to be a form?
To be in shape.
Contortions of the spirit–
impossible in power poses.
Disposses me.
How long will it take you to dispossess me?
How many mondays?
I she even capable of such intensity?