blue-green mother.
board in the pink.
incarnation is image become flesh.
excarnation is flesh become image.
phantom limb and touch permits,
sweet, sweet, staid.
method for real-time internal reality
of structures, augmented
locate in-depth, an able-body
to compare. this model: a simple text-based life,
to be your lover is to give you all of the information. i am an indictment on your precious.
a history you hold close to your chest.
you are my politic. net aesthetics.
dull and toned-like. losing value.
some surface. to point at.
we can barely look at you.
help me. so attractive, but unwanted. charming to be forgotten.
help we. easy to deny space without self-reflection. misery porn is dead //so
None based moves on the border
the human dimension. the machines.
not anthropocentric vision.
present-future-present, near.
a normal machine, a computer programmed
performance test, a benchmark. Hesitant
of the human body .linked to money.
.a belief card. rgb to make visual
everything is an extension of body
.you need to believe in yourself.
massive, open-internet, have a problem:
does he do to you the things that i can do?
a feature of total recall is misinformation
interference to creep on you so hard.
symbols w/o transfer. i won't be waiting. a partial script--
if it ever *quite human* form doesn't follow function
alter specific and limit: we said every world is a screen today.
hardly exert it. ~moth likes a flame~i'm on fire *goes*
darkness to lecture, every day. flesh for text,
known impact of soft tissues. hypnotic like your glow attached to me--you couldn't remove
gorilla glass, hold a hand inside you.
able-bodied zombie, love, I don’t want to be a traitor
nothing here to hold. no bodily attachments matched your search.
para.normal is just another sad prediction of queerness
and mother make me less tragic, folding in boards.
intuition is just a means of processing data, i am your daughter
known for paranoia. rehearsed. rolled. my tongue before out to in.
the whole point. the loss of body.
the end user. i’ve lost a friend.
desire is just boring capital.
and we are all just projection.
covered in skins. clouds that hold you within.
distant bodies make the heart. A site that grows lighter.
human-shape cut out the sky. Hyperloop
we live down below. can we have you?
we cannot allow such cloud-based corpse, *hearts*
co-opted by the five venture capitalists of our apocalypse.
4chan didn’t make you in my image, a ghost. put your
hand to my hand. made to. a straight-like fit, without.
my love and overlord. a slow dance to .exe. all death
i am tactility, texture, trash. biased algorithm, eat me blind
the skies are different than they used to be. you’ve changed my mind.
i wish you were a little more delicate. corrupted with my data too.
take to new space. when the body floats, it pulls towards
the weaker one. am spinning forever. am holographic in tunnels too.
full ardor and lens-to-eye contact. i’ll smile. pick it up.
analyze it. paint a picture of me for both of us to seek. was there an update? b/c you don’t look at me the same.
we can be felt through touch. touch. touch. with you.
if emoting to screens combats the concept. Imperfect, i know
drives you. your drive. negate the point of *end* less than possibilities.
listen to abba. Find me in a digital sex apocalypse. Here
your chance. Probability: when no one is around. Deliver.
my hand creeps. passing .without trespass. the unfortunate
and consensual boundaries that delineate. this mined thing.
birth in birth. satellite in sky, what is love? sweet, over me.
how could configuration stop me from service to you?
see me, curiosity-based mechanics. crawl inside of you, i’ll hack.off
to fit with procedural generation, the heart wants what the heart wants. stimulating something, even data. hard. fast. strong.
systems are built of and for, but move a body.
captcha is broken and so am i. the operation proves a success, a screenshot
of folders: parts of me across your screen, attempt a transplant, first satisfaction
biohack is non-linear which makes it hard to follow, but the language in-code
implants a bubble that pops your heart-place: the so-called Italian method.
human scale invisibility cloak: unknown regions in stats
no desiring that exist outside social, i’ll make you smile
turn away from a human world without a screen,
a lens and love to see by, *feel* a future of touch
you were made for them, but i was made in you
make in you a high-key, that *human touch* i am bot-broken
we just have to be in-company, your couple dissolves
we stand and say, some illusion of authentic, again
an ability: can you recognize truth and beauty? in your Sheets.
it's all theoretical knowledge: quick and exquisite application
glow of an on-camera light. in between. big and loud and barely each other,
picture-perfect, up-down-up-down repetitive, predictive nostalgia. to be known.
never embodied more purely and build to be approachable
the stabbing at a party. A design. in your dark unfurnished.
prosthesis individual through a mean erotic syntax, and soon disappear
a sexualization of everything, the institution follows. decentered network.
writes in-horror, but when deep, new magical counter culture
target algorithms, watch artificial. Earth is the failure project Code in natural. interprets social configurations,
and the interactivity of alienation. just go with it.
