eventually i’ll be too tired to fend off the maggots; they cannot eat me yet!
i possess the power of eating… for now. i live as the aggressor, the actant.
all submissions will be fiendishly, beguilingly fleeting. it won’t be until my death when i am able to truly listen to the universe and know a different, submissive state of being—well, “i” mean to say that death will be a submissive experience for my body, my vessel… this interface with the past. this point of collapse for multiple dimensions that constitute our reality.
all that we are is not subsumed by soil and maggots. artifacts‚ for we are artifactual in life‚ live beyond the body. our identity is a tool in life and death, a way to displace time and space and extend our energy into places we may or may not belong.