... 24.06.2016

If music be the food
                                   // Nigel Farage,, that serial offender
                                      shot himself tonight at 19:23,, good
                                      little cartridge of a country, this was
                                      fought without a bullet,,, Nigel Farage
                                     && Boris Johnson will die today. I can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it.
                                                                     THIS HORRIFIC RACIST CAPITAL
THIS AGONY OF SMILES THIS DECREPIT FUCKING PIT THIS CHANTING THIS 100 MEN SURROUNDED THREE REFUGEE CHILDREN TO DEATH THIS PECULIAR SCENTED SLANT THIS GROSS         FUCK NATIONS.

Supplemented,, forced..

I have to think about this a:::: this I have to think of this face of when the hairs will grow again I have to think it is when I don't think I may be beaten I am usually scared I am a body of information I am a sucked gland  I am a time a broken question of parenting I am a violent man I am the reamain I am Remain I am enemy I represent nothing my voice is that of a man. :{LEW

]~%WE*
               *^V&B &OF       i am specimen

"
|          b            but not
          i


      I am spec     species....




Was he a violent man?
                                      Well he had his genocidal moments.....


I the unconsumated rivet the broke historical the lie against whatever past it was I am a traitor to. Whatever passed over it is the wanting of death and sex the wanting to be fucked somehow the fucking death of it the wanting of ribbon ties and death sex and the wanting of not to pray the wanting of not the eating the wanting of to lace belly the wanting of the beattitudes the wanting of deification, sissification, the beauty of its broken stealth, ,,,,, ;[jhbyuTHE


   ///.tyu ugly stars
the broke2 gor34t
          5h f
   w]tyj4;st4;t\dout them

yj'oht[gf ee\n
   qMG JEUTYJ4H



              NO

I do not fit the voices you have chosen
I do not weaponise the world you built me
I do not fit with the configuration
of this species there is death. I do not
Jane is perpetually kind,,, maybe not today
I will go into the Hades I will skin I will
tits I will revolt I will hands,,,, bodies
wounded world of its species I will fuck
and destroy like a man would no,,, I refuse
I will be fucked and be destroyed as an act
of useless class treason there is,,, there is
chilli for my eyes there is rubber there no
there is this treatment this infantilism,, dead,,,,,
there is this rubber nipple there is solace, always.

***********************************************


There is no generational exit no excuse there's perhaps I am wrong perhaps the diorama of the spheres of my understanding perhaps no this is the entire wrongness there is a thing it feels like fibres or fluff it turns to soft wet crystals to frogspawn ,,, fucking naked ,... This, people want clarification, for this to be the entirety of my work, for my identity to invade: refuse the central position.

There by cleft tele story to
up in digest what carpet steels
care does no one cut out do
        food opene ene there like

is forbidden. Gastric
                     lame to
do decease.


R%^&*(
                 Do not say......
I could never say that to you
   Never form a set of specifics could never

   but do not reduce me if you will do not
      say that to you I am just this or that
    I am mere and contained I will
          be unsafe towards you,, take it as
     a threat or as a consequence or as
     naturation,, we could talk all day
yes..
     we could
 literalise
                            princess me

 yes,,, sometimes
that         is i cry myself, silently,,, no tears,,,,,, i have been made
conditioned to do it,,, so when there is yelling
    i want
  mummys, daddys, sisters, there are kinks
   in this armour there are designs &&&& pleasures
& rope is not but ribbon is & suck it is but spit
it isn't      3 it is but one it is not

    age
  category
               m i n e
 l
        h-bt 9[5/   / this buzzing these
                           hapless roman numerals..

we understand one  
         another
we are hurting you we are hurting you the end the end s   the end sss the end is nt


when
          when it    's not as you'd want
whe



                to be fetished
      to be made
               but force, this beautiful
      immediacy xx

                what am?

Supplemented,, forced..

I have to think about this a:::: this I have to think of this face of when the hairs will grow again I have to think it is when I don't think I may be beaten I am usually scared I am a body of information I am a sucked gland  I am a time a broken question of parenting I am a violent man I am the reamain I am Remain I am enemy I represent nothing my voice is that of a man. :{LEW

]~%WE*
               *^V&B &OF       i am specimen

"
|          b            but not
          i


      I am spec     species....




Was he a violent man?
                                      Well he had his genocidal moments.....


I the unconsumated rivet the broke historical the lie against whatever past it was I am a traitor to. Whatever passed over it is the wanting of death and sex the wanting to be fucked somehow the fucking death of it the wanting of ribbon ties and death sex and the wanting of not to pray the wanting of not the eating the wanting of to lace belly the wanting of the beattitudes the wanting of deification, sissification, the beauty of its broken stealth, ,,,,, ;[jhbyuTHE


   ///.tyu ugly stars
the broke2 gor34t
          5h f
   w]tyj4;st4;t\dout them

yj'oht[gf ee\n
   qMG JEUTYJ4H



              NO

I do not fit the voices you have chosen
I do not weaponise the world you built me
I do not fit with the configuration
of this species there is death. I do not
Jane is perpetually kind,,, maybe not today
I will go into the Hades I will skin I will
tits I will revolt I will hands,,,, bodies
wounded world of its species I will fuck
and destroy like a man would no,,, I refuse
I will be fucked and be destroyed as an act
of useless class treason there is,,, there is
chilli for my eyes there is rubber there no
there is this treatment this infantilism,, dead,,,,,
there is this rubber nipple there is solace, always.

***********************************************


There is no generational exit no excuse there's perhaps I am wrong perhaps the diorama of the spheres of my understanding perhaps no this is the entire wrongness there is a thing it feels like fibres or fluff it turns to soft wet crystals to frogspawn ,,, fucking naked ,... This, people want clarification, for this to be the entirety of my work, for my identity to invade: refuse the central position.

There by cleft tele story to
up in digest what carpet steels
care does no one cut out do
        food opene ene there like

is forbidden. Gastric
                     lame to
do decease.


R%^&*(
                 Do not say......
I could never say that to you
   Never form a set of specifics could never

   but do not reduce me if you will do not
      say that to you I am just this or that
    I am mere and contained I will
          be unsafe towards you,, take it as
     a threat or as a consequence or as
     naturation,, we could talk all day
yes..
     we could
 literalise
                            princess me

 yes,,, sometimes
that         is i cry myself, silently,,, no tears,,,,,, i have been made
conditioned to do it,,, so when there is yelling
    i want
  mummys, daddys, sisters, there are kinks
   in this armour there are designs &&&& pleasures
& rope is not but ribbon is & suck it is but spit
it isn't      3 it is but one it is not

    age
  category
               m i n e
 l
        h-bt 9[5/   / this buzzing these
                           hapless roman numerals..

we understand one  
         another
we are hurting you we are hurting you the end the end s   the end sss the end is nt


when
          when it    's not as you'd want
whe



                to be fetished
      to be made
               but force, this beautiful
      immediacy xx

                what am?

Vigil.

   've got something flexible

cut off cut right into not us

   're 's no cannot be committed

to memory this bacon wrap

   barrel down the. This is how we

cook still you come back to me if I may

   be called an us for a second No

distended over the crux   're told off

   will not walk out on   and keep

running this mere    tears, hounds of silence

   waltzing Up, Up to Valium us, things

're; meant to play with it then leave safely

   thing is no No when look. Into me like

that stalk. Stalked around the aisles

   you get anxious Have no reason No

reason to get anxious Heads no strapped No

   raining on and off we must Must go into

these rooms to hold Hold me in there

   because      were  're not there there

Not must be a solution     in an NYPD jump

   suit in the mirror Ban ban that the image

is not valid There there     some corpses

   everywhere already filled insinuate

them then there is a quiet flood of bang.

First Trans* Manifesto

Would you believe it? I spent an hour writing this essay today and I did it on a tablet I'm using at the moment which goes really slowly and now it's fucking gone. I'd written something about motion, and how once we had dismantled the ideas of destinations, stations etc we then had to move on and destroy movement. It contained an apology: Sorry I have to keep writing in English, I don't know anything else. If you're like me then you know how it feels. You are unable to express anything of how you are feeling because you are stuck in the most  restrictive destructive history there is, and the language has been tightly programmed to disallow. Magic.

The critique of stations is a critique of their composition. There is no station without the rationale that allows it, that proceeds into it. Movement is the same. Everything you say, do, think is a form of obedience. Even, and in fact ESPECIALLY when you contradict a summation with its supposed opposite. And so we go back to the beginning and start a new set of manifestos to try and comprehend this terrifying idea; that we have zero potential, that there is zero potential and that it is reasonable to say that there is no cosmos. Everything, all of the proof of it I am given I cannot fully comprehend or understand. Things might seem reasonable, but so many things do.

The only thing that constantly asserts itself as a material proof at the moment are the scabs on my skin, and the mysterious itching that comes to me in my bed. It's pathetic, but I can't go to the doctor because it feels like being totally denounced, like my number will be up, they will get me and try to cure me and they can't and I fucking hate them and know they must be depended on and it is not them I hate I am just so fucking scared of the smallest things sometimes and I still can't open my mouth properly. You move your children away from me but they were smiling at me and nothing was wrong. Magic, magic, magic. Do not trust yourself, your instincts  or conclusions. Fuck knowledge too.

Verity.



                                                    tgrf   ye  94u8p t l