koos|hQa wakes
in sancta toytowns 81 heads gather periodically for their headmoot - a tradition extending far beyond the rise of homo stultus and its accelerating outpourings across the stunned faces of the earth
while the whonym here bumbles around like contemporary analysis trying to make sense of the claustrophobically surrounding insensate insensible insensitive sensitive hypersensitive world the headmoot goes along its path without particular regard and every then and now i forget ourself and peer through otherness to the moot and watch the heads in their alien community and discourse
they gather in the artroom the other night around three - i'm awake next door in bed wondering about relationships between intentional use of disintegrations of magic and bach's second cantata cycle but am interrupted when i feel the energy of muttering nearby so get up and tiptoe over - if they notice me they don't show it and let me sit on the floor in a corner
their langwiches aren't audible to whonyms but i know they're speaking in their way - styrofoam to styrofoam direct
it goes on until sunrise around seven and by then i'm asleep on the floor but beforehand had fortunately had a chance to snap some photos (below) - they position themselves all over, not even looking at one another - it's a bit unnerving
i'm beginning to suspect there are similar headmoots occurring simultaneously across the planet and the purpose is for all the groups of 81 to communicate with one another - who knows what they're planning and whether it's generous or cruel or something else entirely
i try to remember their names - to recite them in order of precedence and weight - but fail miserably and berate myself with sorry epitaphs
they leave me alone my 81 - at least for now - and for that i'm grateful
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