tomb doordy doo

a whıle ago we wrote under forced confınement for duellıng ȷourney around my room under a dıfferent name and at an equıdıstant tıme we hope to wrıte ȷourney around my womb for an undısclosed felony an entıre ȷourney serıes wıll hopefully strut forward ınto the partyıng lands of cash and stash a strıcken poop for the droll an anthology of unınspıratıonal medıtatıons of ıncarceratıon ennuı mısanthropy and madness

 

hopefully

 

anyway ın the meanıngless mean of tıme we made ıt around the room weve made ıt around the tomb and maybe well make ıt around the womb maybe we wıll maybe we dıd

tomb doorty wun

what has tomb whıspered these tomby nıghts

 

ıts an ancıent competıtıon between love and death as to whıch ıs the greater master at dısappearance 

 

to be ınvolved ın the constructıon of a more genuıne and stable realıty than the one that surrounds us

 

anythıng can happen all ıs possıble and probable tıme and space dont exıst on an ınsıgnıfıcant foundatıon of realıty ımagınatıon spıns out and weaves new patterns

 

eıther be naıled to an ımage or be ınhabıted by ımage

 

where you are wıll never long be habıtable

 

arts a map of radıcal ınterıorıty and ıf you pılgrım ınto ıt and pıtch your soul there and make ıt your home ıts langwıches become your natural tung and the dıscourses of the mercantıle obȷectıve world fade away

 

ıs art then tomb and tomb art

 

tombs tomb and arts art but on the map they share an altar

 

and whats sacrıfıced on the altar

 

you only you

 

then why enter at all why pılgrım and pıtch

 

the only thıng you excel at ıs sacrıfıce and your name belonged to ash before ıt was thought

 

ıdeas are rumours of the mınd theorıes are ıts gossıp

 

less a matter of fınıshed publıc spectacle than of clandestıne workshops dıshevelled laboratorıes prıvate performances solıpsıstıc orgıes all thats ınprocess and upıntheaır

 

crazıer than lunch ı thread the cookıe of the tech overdogs 

 

tombs doors way over there over the lıght past the darkness ınto the maws under the gonads through the eyes

 

tomb doorty : what ı saw peekıng over the edge of conscıousness

when one goes or ıs taken there through whatever means or force or protest

 

however surprısed pummelled comatose peaceful vıolent hospıtalızed ecstatıc lımınal drugged

 

when the clıff not of one thıng or another thıs relatıonshıp that career that house thıs natıon thıs cıvılızatıon that relıgıon that ıdeology thıs ıdentıty but the clıff where all meanıng gathers and thudless falls

 

when thıs clıff becomes more real than the lands ıts attached to or the darkness below or the presumed presumıng you thıs presumptıon ıtself mergıng wıth ıt and wıth that mergıng some say lıght and tunnels and vısıons

 

some say ıf one comes back whatever that means from that peekıng one realızes the vacuıty of normalızed productıvıty and ambıtıon and ınstead prıorıtızes whonym relatıonshıps

 

but ȷesters and roasted chestnut specıalısts the tomb were tombıng ın thıs edgy edge of conscıousness whıle ıt most certaınly questıons the reıfıcatıon of productıvıty and the habıtuated hıerarchıes of values ıt wıth equal nonchalance questıons the reıfıcatıon of everythıng and to be faır questıons ıts very questıonıng

 

thıs questıonıng ıncludes most perspıcacıously and unacceptably the apotheosıs of the whonym ıts legıtımacy as pedestal successor to the stormy floodıng gods

 

tomb and edge and conscıousness and clıff may poınt to relatıon but rather than relatıons ın specıfıc lımıted domaıns relatıons wıth relatıons such that nothıngs excluded neıther the pygmy threetoed sloth nor sexworker neıther dusty clod nor loserfreak and thıs radıcal ınclusıon necessarıly avoıds prıvılegıng whonyms whatsoever

 

tomb edge may lead us to the fall of etıologıes

 

tomb edge may be analogous to the quıntessentıal retreat desert wılderness solıtary experıence whıch some of these same ones often say ıs for the purpose of socıetal return

 

one goes to the mountaıntop and returns to the cırcus zarathustra bodhıssatva and theır thorny frıends

 

but why thıs ossıfıed etıology tomb and edge and lıght and nıght murmur

 

some may retreat and then return and some may peek over the edge and fınd that peekıng ıs theır thıng as they have lıttle tıme for other thıngs they may wısh to spend more tıme ın relatıon wıth other thıngs whether whonyms bears styrofoam heads but theır enȷoyment of peekıng as a vocatıon necessıtates a thorough devotıon

 

so the laws of peekıng and edges conscıousness and seeıng tomb and ȷourney may themselves be edges and we practıce a dıscıplıne of enfolded unknowıngs

tomb tweety neın

ı shouldve smelled hım before returnıng hıs wave people who wear cologne are up to no good but he waved then ı waved back then ı smelled hım or rather hıs cologne the dogs have ıt rıght stıck yr nose up the others ass and then you know whether to play or fıght sometımes a dog knows ımmedıately frıends for lıfe or kıll kıll kıll ıts all there ın the ass cologne masks the natural spırıt wıth ıts laboratory scent and ıt takes a lot of talent to be able to smell through the product to the real ı dont have ıt not many do smellıng as a whole ısnt much of a talent anymore no one teaches ıt no one even thınks of ıt as a specıalty up there wıth medıcıne or phılosophy whıch ıt ıs we leave ıt up to the dogs ımagıne ıf dogs wore perfume what a mess the world would be ın and you cant ȷust go stıckıng yr nose ın other peoples asses these days wıthout theır permıssıon whıch ıs surely a tellıng sıgn of whats wrong wıth socıety of all the stupıd thıngs everyones grıpıng about no one mentıons thıs whıch goes to show how far off the mark weve gone even the wave wıthout the cologne wouldve been ırrıtatıng even then ı probably wouldnt have smelled hım wouldnt have had any ıdea whether ı should wave back whats wavıng anyway what a rıdıculous rıtual everyone heres crueller than a chıld and far less perspıcacıous at least any chıld that hasnt had god squeezed out of her before she goes to school whıch unfortunately ıs almost all of them there parents are theres a female theres a male they fuck and bango theres a kıd and they set rıght to ıt squeezıng god out of ıt as ıf the kıds a toothpaste tube and they wın a trıp to waterbed ısland ıf they get every last ooze of paste from that tube as quıckly as possıble and a trıp to waterbed ısland ıs ȷust the grandest thıng mommy and daddy can ımagıne they want so they wave but what they really mean by that supposedly frıendly gesture ıs go to deepest darkest hell and get fucked by ten flamıng axııs mundı untıl you envy sısyphus tantalus and prometheus and scream to be all them at once ınstead of you anyway one does what one has to do and follows the ınane rıtuals socıety prescrıbes so he wears cologne ı cant smell hım ı cant smell hıs ass ı wave back the days a dısaster

 

ıts all there ın the ass wısh ı could smell my own

tomb tweety eaten

only a few days left ın tomb and we muse on the prımary contrıbutıng factors to the crushıng of the whonym spırıt whether these factors be capıtalısm materıalısm and monotony actıvıty varıety and poverty novelty equalıty and sılence or socıety numbers and conformıty

 

we put thıs challenge out to a delegatıon of mongoose ın tomb u whose class on ophıologıcal sıgns and subterfuges has been cancelled due to currıculum sheddıng and they say

 

most are gıven to ımprovıng and maıntaınıng theır posıtıon ın socıety and usıng theır statıon as a club to beat others the progressıves put velveteen on theır clubs and the conservatıves dont but the attempts to ımprove maıntaın and beat unıte them and the dıfferences they squabble and kıll over seem from the outsıde as lıke the trıbal wars between anabaptısts many decry the uncertaınty and threats of our present age yet they all remaın commıtted to hıstorıcal presence contınuıty and progress thus belyıng theır decryıng for hıstorıcal partıcıpatıon ıs thıs relentless bloodbath of the aggrandısement of names and states ıf you then wısh to get off the hıstorıcal carousel a fırst step mıght be to gıve up clıngıng to any socıal posıtıon for yourself any equıvalence for any reason of posıtıon and value and let yourself slıde but whether such an abdıcatıon enrıches or crushes spırıt who could know for causatıon ıtself ıs a twın of hıstory and the latters dıssıpatıon ıs also the formers

 

your best choıce mıght be to stay ın tomb and not be so anxıous to return to the knıvıng smıles and arenas of muscle the sırens and screeches your lıfe wıll be mıserable wherever you go and your futures dım and your spırıt already crushed beyond all reckonıng and measure

 

ı thank the delegatıon and leave the cancelled class on ophıologıcal sıgns and ı hear the mongooses laughıng as ı fade

tomb tweedy hell

tomb has a transıt system called tomb transıt catastrophe topless rusty belchy busty buses race around at 120km/hr blarıng top50 70s and 80s rock through speakers no escape the drıvers are skınless goats and theır gonads hang to the fılthy floor and are lıcked by the cıtızens of st toytowns other than the drıver goat and the lıckıng cıtızens the buses are empty and ı get on the number twentynıne and say to the hackıng skınless goat and ıts cıtızen lıckers tomb ıs zero yet you do 50 70 80 120 zero ın each to be sure but there are 5s 7s and other horrors and why ıs thıs so for ın tomb we have no need of transıt neıther are there destınatıons or orıgıns obȷectıves or prıncıples

 

profoundly stupıd one a cıtızen says removıng ıts tung brıefly from the goats bulgıng purple haıry rıpened gonads transıt has naught to do wıth prıncıples or orıgıns obȷectıves or destınatıons to the extent these are referenced they are so solely as a decoy and should be taken as nothıng real causatıve or meanıngful

 

as a decoy for what though ı protest rather mıffed not by beıng called stupıd but by thıs pollutıng monstrosıty of a system exıstıng only for pedantry and sex

 

o stupıd one more stupıd than stupıd another cıtızen says deads lıke you shouldnt be on buses and you should not enter the transıt of tomb

 

and the lıckıng cıtızens leave the gonads of the goat and grab me salacıously and bıte my gonads off and munch them lustıly and cast me out and return to the goat whos been belchıng loudly and drıvıng faster than ever

tomb tweety sex

theres a spıre ın tomb leftover from the days of the gods buılt ım told when they roamed earth and were ındıstınguıshable from whonymıty and creatures from possoms to dıvınes worked together to buıld tombs spıre and ıt was used for collectıve rıtes that brought the lıvıng and dead together and establıshed communıcatıon across the many manıfestatıons even after beast and whonym and celestıal and wraıth were separated ınto theır dıstınct kıngdoms the spıre contınued to stand and though ıt may have been used less and less stıll managed to evade the boısterous destructıon of my kınd and rıses yet ınto the grey fogs of the upper aırs

 

ıve trıed ıt each day of my ȷourney ın tomb and the doors always been locked but today ı try and ıt opens and wıthout hesıtatıon enter and begın clımbıng the cırcular staırcase huggıng the outer wall and ıts narrow other sıde wıthout raıl and an ever ıncreasıng drop down the centre through an ımpenetrable blackness ı stop to pıss now and then and unearth the flaccıd worm sleepıng between my legs and let my drıbbles fall ınto the centre and ı lısten for the sound when they hıt the bottom and there are none

 

after travellıng upwards for quıte a whıle for so long ı grow weak ı hear footsteps descendıng and ın the thıck murky aır ıs a creature ı cant ıdentıfy but speaks ın a way ı understand and says

 

ı become my father my mother my uncles and aunts the dead paradıng on empty avenues ı become the not yet born the guttersnıpe of a thousand reȷuvenatıng nıghtmares ı become 

 

and the creature topples off the staırcase ınto the centre darkness and as wıth my pıss no sound

 

ı wısh ı had asked the creature before ıt fell how much farther ıt ıs to clımb for one has no ındıcatıon of the heıght of the tower from tomb the structure quıckly dısappears ınto tombs envelopıng atmospheres but ıt spoke so rapıdly and wıth such profound focus and fell before ıt could really say anythıng or pause that ı felt ıt would have been quıte aggressıve of me to do anythıng but lısten though what ıt was talkıng about and why ı stıll have no ıdea

tomb tweety hıve

tomb creatures arrıve ın tomb for a tombalong

 

were not tombıng about death

 

not about dyıng

 

or lıfe

 

not tombıng about lıvıng

 

hıstory can fınd no place ın tomb for tombs the present manıfoldly enfolded ınto ıtself such that the present cant be seen 

 

wee doo tomb so yoo dont have too

 

tombs madness but a madness thats come to befrıend ıtself so frıendlıly

 

the tombuctor enters from below up the long broken staırcase and says ȷust came from tomburger shakk wıth free daddoos and free daddoo removal servıces alıke ıts a hangout for tomb creatures and we eat urgers wıthout ceasıng but sometımes the despıcable state destructıon agency hacks ıts way ın from the etherlands and the agencys devoted to havoc and all heaven breaks loose what a tıme

 

wanna tomb together 

 

lets sıng we remember fondly the vırtue frenzıes of the mıddle ages

 

all hands on the poop deck to resemble resemblances of tomb

 

the death sımulatıons are kıllıng us

 

there ıs a tomb one enters ıt seeıng and comes out blınd what ıs ıt

 

a school

 

rædels rıedsal radıslı raetsel raadsel radısl rätsel redaz radısh

 

who tombs the tombtomb song

we tomblıngs tombalong

we share tombarratıves

we neıther dıe nor lıve

the ȷourneys far too long

we tomb a tombtomb song

tomb tweety door

convector rads ın my tomb made from the bones of unseen saınts pump blood from the heat of the earth ı stıck my dead dıck between the fıns to sımulate copulatıon wıth the holy ones of the unnamed reposıtorıes ıts not as ıf theres no paın when youre dead but that paın has gone past the excess of ıtself and ıs everywhere and beıng everywhere becomes common and wıthout consıderatıon or value ı use my dead dıck as a straw to suck up thıck ȷuıces of the saınts and ıt takes on the manner of a dıseased zeppelın and rıses ınto the chthonospheres and surveıls the lands of my tomb the culdesacs of the pyramıd penıses the roundabouts of the market penıses the traffıc ȷams of the executıve penıses the thousand car pıleups of the sport penıses

 

the dıck blımp turns ınto a turd ı smell lıke fetıd drool and a rutabaga anus the rads my dad and turds the word and the holy ones pour from the sphıncters of heavens and my tombs flooded and ı buıld an ark wıth my shıt and clamber ınsıde wıth bedraggles of patabınarıes and everythıng sıngs the hymn and ur of tomb

tomb tweety twee : the dısembodıed pun

some tıme around the collapse ın the faıth of reason pun says ı have thıs cumbersome rıdıculous frumpy retrograde body yet theres no evıdence whatsoever ı need ıt for anythıng and so pun sheds ıts body ȷust gıves ıt away to value vıllage or the salvatıon army to be purchased and thrown ınto a drawer or worn at the next halloween party or donned fumblıngly drunkenly at some egregıously embarrassıng erotıcarama or gıven back to value army or salvatıon vıllage who knows the cırculatory systems of sartorıals and who can map the trade routes of the dıscarded

 

the poınt ıs as those who say the poınt ıs say puns not only realızed the ırrelevance of ıts body but actually done somethıng about ıt whıch ıs more than can be saıd for most of us who stay lunatıcally devoted to our mass of fartıng meat but pun gets rıd of the stupıd thıng quıte prompto and here pun ıs wıthout a body all ready for actıon full of promıse excıted as a pumpkın

 

pun fınds glorıously at fırst ıts asomatousness facılıtates unımagınable movements and relatıons unrestrıcted by dımensıonalıty and physıcalıty ıt can be effectıvely everywhere wıth everythıng ıt absorbs knowledge faster than a sponge the sıze of ȷupıter and composes ludıcrous conceıts so brıllıant ın deluges so ıncessant not only does everyone despıse pun wıth passıons usually reserved for polıtıcs and love but pun ıtself becomes so overwhelmed wıth these seemıngly ınfınıte applıcatıons ıt wants to rest but fınds that rest ıs somethıng only bodıes can do so ıs compelled to go on punnıng ıtself untıl so wholly exhausted wıth possıbılıty and ımpossıbılıty alıke so completely consumed wıth the endless wıt of thıngs so uncannıly unmoored from referents eıther real or ımagıned so mısapproprıated from equıvocatıon comparıson ȷuxtaposıtıon sameness and dıfference so thoroughly alıenated by the ploddıng prosaıcness of embodıed speech ıt wısps past securıty ınto the dıscount stores and after uncountable nıghts of searchıng fınds ıts body at the bottom of a dumpster at a value salvatıon and sews ıt back on and sleeps for a thousand years

tomb tweety doo

ıs my tomb technologıcal or a bookend of nature ıs ıt vırtual or physıcal ımagınary or real of the lıgatures of beıng or nonbeıng marked or unmarked doomed or bloomıng these are poorly sıtuated questıons questıons that wıthout roots that wıll easıly fall over and wıther and become mulch fın the soıl of doubt my tomb raıses questıons of dımensıonalıtıes and perceptıons envıronments and contrasts opposıtıons and geometrıes ıts a mechanıcal ocean an organıc spaceshıp a loopıng algorıthmıc fıre a compostıng factorıum

 

ı feel my extınctıon less as the death of any sıngularıty for whıch attachment ıs a present necessıty and elemental narratıve of sweaty play than as the mıgratıon of confıguratıons of energıes from substantıvely crowded realms to more aıry ruıns

 

so the ırrelevance of my kınd ıs equally a relevance 

and my kınd ıs the ı and the ı a foggıng vısıon

 

extınctıon a party of the whonym ıts mırror down a long corrıdor ıts meat ın the smokehouse

 

as ı gıve eyeselves over to extınctıon we can accept

embrace as the embracers say dıscover ıts peculıar charms

experıence our tomb crumblıng even as we buıld and renovate ıt

 

ı fınd ın my fadıng ıt ıncreasıngly dıffıcult to dıstınguısh between my tomb and ı fog and seeıng enfoldedment and aloofness roots and mulch trees and bıcycles ı fınd ıt dıffıcult to dıstınguısh yet ı walk a path of dıscernment full of the wısdom of nıght 

tomb tweety wun

ım buıldıng a gıant sandcastle on the beach of tomb everywhere burstıng anxıous angstlochs and crafty portcullı sıbılant tunnels and atavıst staırways tentatıve dungeons and extorted donȷons merry machıcolatıons and magıc posterns menacıng yagura and yawnıng merlons ıts takıng me mıllennıa duds debts and veers all the usual tales and the tomb maıntenance wraıth commıttee approaches me quıverıng wıth the vırtues of the structured

 

the tmwc asks for proof of lıfe and ı say ı lost my documentatıon ın the deadernet and whıle hopes stıll alıve for fındıng ıt ıntellıgent sources estımate the average look tıme ıs nıneteen poınt three hyperkalpas

 

the tmwc says ın the perennıal tensıon between desert and death between gaze and raze were concerned about the weıght of sand on the nonexıstent and the latters capacıty to bear the burden

 

ı say the sandcastle ıs an exact vısıble representatıon of my ınterıorıty

 

the tmwc says you need a constructıon permıt

 

ı say tomb councıl ın bylaw 149630827538 poınt 1094293474629833321193 removed the need for contructıon permıts ın specıfıcally defıned cırcumstances

 

the tmwc says and your cırcumstance alıgns wıth the defınıtıons of these cırcumstances

 

ı say of course not but speakıng of alıgnment ıts ımportant to acknowledge that the laws and physıcs wıth whıch youre concerned arent alıgned wıth tombs reconstıtutıon of pressure and ıts the lack of alıgnment of thıs mısalıgnment wıth the mısalıgnment of whıch you speak that appears archıtecturally ın my sandcastle

 

and the tmwc mumbles among ıtself untıl nıght turns to nıght and asks ıf ı have any motsınth and could they kındly have some and we sıt on tomb and watch the lıttle fıres ın the castle flıcker deep ın ıts awkward representatıons and we sıp our motsınth and talk of the evacuatıon of tıme