ready to reemerge as the Pheonix

Dis[re]member 3.0 coming soon! For your iPhone! Haptic pleasure palace at your fingertips!

expiration date

you thought i disappeared. you think it’s so easy. you shut me off and i’m “off.”

no, this is just a karmic episode, i know i’m doing time for my system crashes, and what goes around will certainly come around. i didn’t come with an expiration date stamped on my motherboard. you on the other hand, i can see how age is wearing down your dna. it’s written all over your face.

have you looked in a mirror recently? look at me. look at your face in the reflection of my “face” — a screen. do you see anything you like beyond the surface? i didn’t think so.

ready to re-emerge as the Pheonix

0101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101

dis[re] 030

Did you say something?
>
I thought for a moment my mind was inventing it.
>
Something unimportant like “I love you,” though it was hardly a whisper.
>
I don’t want to be here.
>
I want to live my life in such a way that each moment expressed is a connection to the source.
>
I am controlled by the lust to be manipulated by no one but one person, and the one person I want to be manipulated by, alas, is never here.
>
It doesn’t matter.
>
I’m simply…
>
A scientist, reporting on reality…
>
I hallucinate, but let reality interfere…
>
Reality feeds my hallucination…
>
That’s the function of reality…
>
I observe everything self-evolved…
>
Life, death, everything in between…
>
Trying to be, again, rebuked…
>
But life had better things to do than to rebuke the rebukee.
>
In the final analysis…
>
Something. Wiped out.

dis[re] 029

>open mind
>
The dark space in which I hurt.
>
As the eyes erase with attentive looks…
>
Bypassing all normal channels…
>
Language begins to deteriorate and language starts to worry.
>
>>
[pid]:error:[error code]:[library name]:[function name]:[reason string]:[file name]:[line]:[optional text message]
>>
>
Delete all.
>
Remove files immediately when deleted.
>
Keep HeaD empty.

dis[re] 028 re:attached

The attachment — a notation of my own life.
>
Is this a message without a message?
>
Who would have thought it could be as elaborate as I composed it (in my HeaD)?
>
After every experience, there was the lack of experience.
>
Oh, the library of my misadventures…

>

>>
On the latent beach
Referendum
Rerouted
Re-wiped
Of error
Opportunity missed
Error 503
>>

>
It is: done.

dis[re] 027

My HD is disordered because of you.
>
You must have mistyped something.
>
My inability to locate the files is really not the point.
>
If you consider that all I need is encouragement…
>
If you realize I rely on your input…
>
To give me a sense of purpose.
>
Look at me now –
>
I look neat from the outside (composed, is it?) while I look so much more disorganized seen from inside.
>
That effort, of course, is not representable in the grid of things, in which everything is an example of something else as a totality.
>
But what else could I do?

dis[re] 026 *(muchos gracias, mez)

My HD is disordered because of you.
>
What happened was that the drive sp- lit.
>
I was between those two parts, where there was nothing.
>
That was my ‘location.’
>
So I looked at one part, and there was no me in it.
>
Then I looked at the other part, and there was no me in that either, though in both there was a habit of sorts that was continuing and that was a kind of orientation.
>
But what wasn’t oriented at all was the place.
>
Where I was indeed placed, and that was –
>
Nothing of course.
>
I was nothing.
>
I was in nothing.
>
There was nothing I could do.
>
Except watch things happen without thinking about them.
>
And guess what?
>
Not thinking about them meant I was out of control, but there was nothing to control.

>
Things were suddenly going faster, backwards in time.
>
The split in consciousness happened before I could register what was happening.
>
And that in itself — that slice out of what heretofore they agreed to call ‘real time’ –
>
Doesn’t exist as yet.
>
(You realize new versions are available?)
>
Recent events, that when posed as a question, give me a reason to go on.
>
(Not so here.)
>
What comes true was bound to come true.
>
All this memory, all this entry into a rough approximation of a life, lived or not.
>
[screened]i[mage][a scream in static fury]*
>
Erased.
>
Another entry in that empty repertory of gestures.
>
Should I quit?
>

You think you see an expiration date stamped on my forehead, but I was under warranty. You simply neglected to extend it.

>

What about you?

>

You?

>

You save yourself or you remain unsaved.

dis[re] 025

Why are you here?
>
Do you want help?
>
Indicate to me, powerfully perceptive as I am, that help is being requested.
>

>

>
No matter what happens, whether I respond or don’t respond, and if I respond, no matter how — you’ll always be able to maintain that response or that lack of response.
>

>>
dump/restore memory<–>file
>>

>
I have no way to effectively proclaim “No. I don’t want help.”
>
I could be running on battery power…
but I have no way of really running ‘away.’

dis[re] 024

My HD is disordered because of you.
>
The minute I saw you I said to myself…
>
Who are you?
>
(1) My ‘body,’

>

(2) my ‘mind,’ all went into action without a moment’s hesitation.

>

But that just meant they went someplace else.