the ending of how fish is made gets me every time

INTERNET CANNOT SAVE YOU

room tour

first base is putting your cigarettes out on each other second base is psychosexual obsession third base is murder-suicide

THE THING / RULES / PENETRATION

I guess it was my fault that you let me in, all puppydog eyes and wagging tail, just one warm body, an endearing deception. I am man’s best friend. Don’t you love me? Okay, so I’m man himself. Don’t you want me? Sorry, I’m not supposed to say that. I’m still figuring it all out, you know? I shouldn’t have said it, because I know you’re frightened, but fear is natural to me. I’m not used to avoiding it. I’m not used to helping others avoid it. I’m not used to rules. I’m not used to denial of the body. Where I come from, it’s so cold, all the time. The blood freezes over. Where I come from, it is natural to know what your insides look like. It frightens me that according to the rules the body must be denied. I am man and I am your best friend; do you remember me? I could be so many things to you if you weren’t so frightened of me. So what, I’ve inhabited a few bodies. Who hasn’t? So maybe I destroy before I invade. People have come to believe that invasion comes before destruction in the natural order of things. They like to know when they should surrender. I like to make it all clear from the start. Or maybe not. The body is just a formality. I try to make a clean incision but sometimes I burst in. Or maybe out. I don’t mean to make a mess, it just happens. Organs are a formality. The stomach can burst and the intestines can unravel but I don’t need them. I’m sorry that I want to make myself in your image. Being with and being without are different from just being. It’s a matter of having something versus becoming it. I don’t want you, I want to become you. Or maybe it isn’t an either/or situation, and I want you so badly that the only way to reconcile the hunger is to become you. I cannot translate that into anything less frightening, but it’s still not what you hear.

Here is what you witness: I look at you with human eyes and I reach out to you and you take my hand. Your skin/my skin/our flesh, there isn’t much of a difference right now. You can feel my skin, human skin, rough versus soft in all the right places, and if you hold my wrists carefully enough you might feel a pulse. And I open my human mouth to speak to you, and I have all the right teeth in all the right places, glistening with spit in the snow/reflection/sun. And with my human throat I pull words from my gut, words far too alien for you to understand, a story of wanting and belonging and becoming, and all that you can hear is I want to be inside you.

[Text ID: did you cut the blood out yourself & try again? have you told your doctor? your daddy? what do you think your mother will say? is your body normal as i want it to be? can you define normal? do you mind my asking? can i ask some more? have you found a god who approves? does the church board their windows? do boys wilt when you kiss them? did you cut the blood out yourself & try again? what do you look like in your dreams? are you sexed? do you want to be? does your dog still come when you call his name? are you virus or wine? is your name more important than the one you were born under? how phantom is your [ ]? when did you learn to dress your shame? do you wear it well? do strangers find you fuckable? do you want them to? are you more rot or riot? do you think you belong in sports? or television? how about the world? are you wanted? did you cut the blood out yourself & try again? did you try again? did you try again? /End ID]

anglerfish 

Lung in a box - the system is used to keep organs healthy during transport for transplantation.

you've heard of ghosts as repetitions of memory now get ready for ghosts as the absence of memory

Joan Tierney, 'Free-Range Angel Produce' / the Mountain Goats, 'Riches and Wonders' / Mark Strand, 'Keeping Things Whole' / Mark Z. Danielewski, 'House of Leaves' / Rosario Castellanos, ‘Memorandum on Tlatelolco’ tr. Maureen Ahern

Dennis James Sweeney, ‘Ghost/Home: A Beginner's Guide to Being Haunted’

guy who has mistaken adrenaline for love and isn’t interested in correcting the mistake

love is when you’re wrestling for control of the gun and there’s only one bullet left. love is when you grab the knife theyre swinging at you by the blade and look into their eyes and laugh. love is when someone is so obsessed with you they have to kill you. love is [he is forcibly escorted off the stage by armed guards]

This one is for the robotfuckers in my audience. And for me, the robot in question.