becoming-animal becoming-woman becoming-faggot becoming-optical fiber becoming-server farm becoming-rubble

17 January 2014
This piece was reblogged from Aimee Heinemann at the request of Queer (in) Crisis.
The problem with living in a constant state of crisis is that it isn’t. Like, how are we meant to deal with our temporal/Oedipal/daddy issues when this is just what _is|? Like, how would anyone /accidentally/ kill their dad in the age of preemption? I mean, there are no atheists on Facebook and it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of the end of the world. #nodads #NeverForget
Future is now. And yesterday. (And tomorrow – but that feels very retro.) The future starts when you start and everything happens so much and horse_ebooks was a human like all the best spambots and I’m not saying those things are connected but I think in 140 characters or less and I never drop below 7 open tabs and the next pandemic does not exist yet but the risk it represents is entirely plausible. #SpeculativeFML
I don’t want to perpetuate the myth of a flat internet, but last night I dreamt about a virtual buffer zone, a safety net at the edge of the net (to prevent falls and injuries and lawsuits). Time’s slower there, and the space is heavy and soft – you’d like it. I’m not sure what comes next because I wasn’t trying to leave, and there were meters and meters of Bliss (image) to get through, and I can’t afford the insurance.
[Hey btw from one broken boygirl glitch body 2 an/other I can see your structural violence through that t-shirt and I guess it’s a lqqk but like I mean have you heard of daisycutter bombs? Sorry, that came out wrong, I meant to say it’s qt, very Precarity SS14.]
A nervous trigger is a connective tissue and we’re all connection now because wasn’t that the point? (Although don’t take my word for it – I’m 2 yung 2 remember and trust no man’s post-gender history.) Every system is nervous but that’s accounted for like everything else and every thing is ‘literally’ or ‘virtually’ because what else are we going to cling to? I don’t understand ontology but I’ve been able to feel the emotional block in my back ever since someone told me it was there and I can describe in detail how bodies feel when they don’t want to exist anymore. I don’t wanna get corporeal about this but Cartesian dualism is so 2000 and l8 and there’s a lot of dead skin trapped in your keyboard and I had my first panic attack because someone told me hot tubs cause cancer and like, ‘the greater the threat the greater the risk of inaction’. So like prophecy is the externalization of desire but some prophecies have more biopolitical klout than others?
There’s no such thing as irrational fear and every fear is forever and disintegration is my utopian dream and disaster planning offices are the institutionalization of fantasy and your darkest desire is probably already a Craigslist ad so like, get over yourself. In my dreams nobody gets a cohesive subject position or body to match (which is less good than it sounds) but last night I got beaten up (a post-post-body exorcism) and stayed myself for the duration which is #rare and in the dream I wrote on the wall and it looked like this: |—————? except that line was solid and the question mark sat above it and I woke up smiling and I’ve never been on selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors but sometimes they stop you dreaming. No moralizing, we’re all trying to fall apart in a constructive way and irl is the highest drag and sometimes I think singularity is the hardest thing there is (and I Have Even Met Happy Call Centre Workers). And sleep is like the body’s last bastion of resistance to l8 capitalism or whatever but #StressStillLingers
Fuck it, I mean, let’s ‘fuck’ ‘it’, I /mean/ – we’re precarious aesthetic architecture and our architectures are shoddy and subcontracted and structurally unsound but so is their junkspace and there’s no_such_thing as an earthquake resistant structure and the real 9/11 is inside of you and their combined vibration control system has nothing on my pile of rubble.
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