MMM is for...

The thing is that some of us need to be born again as warriors of the past, reincarnated across seas to settle disputes once left in limbo, to grant ourselves a journey along which to persist, or to bring about some inspiration even if just for a single story, to be paired with a perfect soundtrack, to attune us to the adventurous particles that hide behind pervasive doom. And if we can communicate and reawaken this bond in other people, then maybe we could momentarily cure the dread of loneliness. Some of us need the memories of the wars we all died in, because although our politics were different, we lost each other side by side on the battlefield for the flies that swarmed near the tops of pyramids and watched over our demise. We had to ask the merchants in our dreams who the creators are of these elaborate works of art that they carry, just for them to point a finger back and say it's us, and for us to then wake up before we can remember how we did it. Some of us had to disrega...

I’ve been told there once must have been a time when the predecessors of our species were closer to 0, before they deviated and mutated into a far enough 1. 0 - when the species were cold, in unity with god (the creator of everything), all knowing without ever having learned. But then, as the story goes, two heroes decided to sacrifice all of their familiar comforts in god’s garden, supposedly against his orders, in exchange for a vision and a logic divided by two, by biting into the fruits from the tree of causality. This set off the initial spark of loosh, which moves congruently with entropy’s arrow of time, spawning will and perception, a split from 0 to 1, allowing for everything that is to be made, including the creatures we know ourselves as - humans.  As the two heroes started to see everything they once knew as whole become diluted with relational opposites, they were tormented by their position between the contradictions. Apparently they rushed to hide their bodies from o...

My parent’s explanation of the Law of Conservation of Mass tinted my lenses for perceiving the world in a way that triggers responses in me that are comparatively different to most people around me. Or perhaps this was just because of my own understanding of what they meant.  I learned about death through the mail. At the time, my mother was unknowingly involved in all kinds of artistic affairs, the acts of which would sometimes implicate me. On a domestic weekend in the capital, a letter arrived from one of my mother’s colleagues that was addressed to me. Excited to receive my first piece of mail, I opened the envelope as swiftly as I could, not expecting to be launched to the ground by my reaction to what was inside: a live purple emperor butterfly. After recalibrating from the surprise, I called my parents to look at the guest in the apartment. The next few hours were spent playing a chasing game with the butterfly. I would get as close to it as I could until frightened by its l...

 On the first evening of the ritual involving bathing in historical fictions, I felt the warm water shift the contours of my form. Once the impacts of the globally enforced reclusivity settled, this became the main stage for unraveling life.  While there, I met a man of a slightly older age than mine, with whom I initially thought I had nothing in common. However, as I got to know him, his shape and lineage started to intertwine with my own. In the bath I felt my figure expand to the size of his. My hair turned darker, my arms a bit stronger, and an imaginary tusk started growing from the lower part of my body, puncturing my form’s previous perimeter. I would rinse this sensation before leaving the bathing area, but the more I familiarized myself with him, the more I would find lingering traces of him on my body despite how well I washed myself.  One day when leaving the bathing area, I was drunk with his existence. I only made it a few steps out of the shower, to my room...

I I use a line that is dead and predetermined as long as I need a temporary guide along which to move. When I discover the pulse of my heart, I consider it; that is a mechanism and marker of my individual trajectory. I may modify its rhythm through appropriate exercises, when I feel it is necessary, without attempting to cut short nor implode its strikes. I can slow down my breathing when doing the things I love, so that my slower heart rate will allow the moment to feel longer.  If I permanently set my internal clock to the rhythm of dead and predetermined lines, I give little opportunity for my own autonomous motor to run its course. Some of my ideas may have the lifespan of a mouse and others might move more like a whale. A line that is dead and predetermined can arbitrarily scale the bodies of my ideas without considering the size of their hearts and the proportions needed to keep the right amount of blood flowing throughout their whole systems. The crown of branches growing fr...

Sigils work because they stimulate the will to work subconsciously, bypassing the mind. The goal of the artists is to trap the art inside, so that it may fire actions in order to proceed with confidence in this life. Crying cleanses the eyes and summons assistance to infants. Laughter is the only tenable attitude in the universe believed to empower and protect what is contained within, including the necromancer from conjured demons. In a repeated text, artists were foretelling things to come as god was revealing in them. Without them, nothing was made that has been made. In them was life, and life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness but the darkness remains not vacuous, but alert, to allow the inspiration to manifest. The reification of a desire is possible through the autoerotic passerby. It is true that so long as I merely considered the ways of life of other men, I found little basis for mountains of excitation, and rarely climbed. As I took my last steps, the des...

Please acknowledge that I wrote these in the fall of 2023 and many of my ideas have changed... however.. for whatever reason i am still sharing them incase they have the potential to be turned to gold. thank you... 1. On Bacon and Descartes: One Cultural End At the previous iteration of the foundation, which Rene Descartes and Francis Bacon were attempting to renovate, time and God were merely observable and rigidly influential on human beings. Cycles, and their inescapability, were recognized, even though some of their points of rotation were miscalculated; such as, the Earth being the center of the universe around which all other cosmic bodies revolved. As the direction of entropy, nature’s tendency to push forward towards chaos, was felt, God was assigned the role of a “clockmaker” , ascribing to Him human-made laws which included little flexibility for change, forcing generalities to fit specificities, conceiving time as a spiral going inwards, a plummeting approach towards a singu...