Tuesday, May 2, 2023

ilker artiran, symbiosis

archtexture density, image by ilker artiran


symbiosis

he said I and that was enough for me the loudest scream burning performs to be himself badly his corpse head grins when the machine within is asked to share its contents he screams into the streets howling with terrible questions understands my hunger for the sand then great operators transforms me in the desert of the will for the intensified fall down to the hole the hours of the day repeating themselves the broken wounded face of the conflict that settled in my memory to be erased keep calling me in hertz slamming this window called me I was a hole that pours him to a non me from intertwined voices before entering into a determination about the rabbit hole equipped with a series of devices that turn into the human in the evacuation channels of instinct the scream that feeds this offal that I call me the murder expressing a will to be sacrificed seeks itself in me the numerical resurrection of the virus bounded by the fixed equations the destruction repeats itself in the revenge of this rabbit hole I see the data chunks collapse with the electric charge I spread through the day he was born and busy with being me in the white noise patterns of my own matter overwhelmed by the premature orgasm of my body is the data stream the second breath the second pulse that cuts out his history as an object it is a yellow neon broadcast behind the skin I know it was after founding a screw hole in the desert cave the encoded form density of the explosion like the wind finds the rock seduced to the thresholds and the fears that could not forget him in a pattern called me the fears that haunt him the seduced benzene derivative bad plastic steel raw concrete telos now forever this mechanical entity will grind them all to the sand to get angry and conquer he who believes in the tale that he will finally find himself knowing these things that I have never known sharpens the knife it was a metallic glow that pierced the mind through my body I have to sustain myself with this cut that cleans and glorifies I see heaps of terms linked together in the regular polyhedra crystals the humanizing castration of self division spreads itself into the wind giving up learning to swim to find himself in the synaptic overload of drowning the sleeping pains the wakefulness pains called me split into the tongues that will catch a taste that is me on his meat i turned into the hands that push me out of him who is still asleep I am sitting without me in the noise the digitized human disperses to the gaps in shifts with the scream that consumes this offal disintegrating with the fear the desire that drives him to the hive and to the work divided into the pulses running all around the body spread across the range and turning back from the rocks and grins at me I look at the grave that is my home with its stones carved in my toothache in the mirror he folds my identity looking with cold eyes to kill a yellow explosion it replicates itself until what is said and who said it got rotten the rabbit tail clouds for this tick tock extends the time it measures the knife is the same knife cutting across the body he the extension of this scheme is dead and he does not know yet a network of things that have no function other than trash frozen in the spasms says I that is building me within the mirror and this is me destroying myself in the mirror a manifold of the mouths attempting to say all at the same time blowing a wind a noise in the brain the cold eyes of the sand that imperative surrounds the world is a dead show I said slow down this rabbit hole that will break the logic engine eventually sending everything beyond whatever it is such a digital scream of the machine mouth with the machine tongue can be calculated and has been calculated I clung to the fish back of prisms I hexagons there my saturated face watching me rot in the offline mirror that diffuses a circular motion would be expected from the unconscious code depicting this otherwise possible chemical clouds cover the sky take the glare from his eyes creating the volumes black and white of it and celebrating the death between two mornings awakens to the bolts of information all day long he sees me in one of many angles of being me the desert multiplied by the paranoia wall the wall idea does one thing contains the softcore within I will forget this desert so it will not cover and ruin everything I brewed in the bible of my thoughts which is too technical for words this frozen noise as if indicating an obstacle in the formed structure after a symmetrical pain in my body the call came as a desert I would wake up and I would die in it like I will remove this veil code by code that will not open until my first voice I watched the only one symptom of life that is upside down with these eyes the receptive extensions of the self consciousness parasite of himself I died in a long winter and forgot which connections make the culture online in its breast where he crawls and expands in I was born into this image space spreading it I spread it grinds me to the universe till I fall anonymous points a finger at what I call me that casts itself as noise and I scream he does it at every point of being a desert I woke up to such a desert sticking to sticky body fluid I would die in the desert a hole dropping up and down in the urban decay forms of thoughts about everything from the dental cavities I get tingles that come out by rubbing his teeth he looks at his clock these tick tock echoes through his wires to end the day and sleep again to see the nightmare I dive into what makes it real at every point of being he will find big curtains hung to the ringing echo it is a bad fossil synthetic drug culture with the intent bronze throat spewing the laughter cold false and indifferent the human machine has tendencies like hitting the walls of the meat with the program called personality so I stay dead the deaths are invented by the endless labor pain of the universe recurring in the retching connections he has to cross the sprawling desert that turning off this light covering with the veil and replaces me as the eyes looking at myself with two blind dot darken everything to the sand that frightens me with understanding me starts to ring determined to create a world in this rabbit hole singularity he reached out between the death and the desert said he was enough for himself the temple of the culture of the corruption was expanding as I have a voice is a burning carbon fire that lights up is a hole made of sand and nothing else the desert that occurs through a calculable confusion the grinning faces are enough to be the mirror images of each other the gray matter scratches away from hole in a world of smoke architecture it covers the range until the synthesis of himself and his reflection is in my tongue the scream that appears is the schematic larva that knows how to die in all languages on his own account he gets involved in the form a non dispersed pile of sand shrinks and shrinks without knowing where it will arrive teeth are getting smaller to tame him like a desert would do I woke up in it I would die in a desert

oh me, image by ilker artiran

—ilker artiran

The Art of the Dark Fantastic, S.C. Hickman

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