Singularity has become oppression, a 'tense present' in a cool dark cell of blood possessed by radio waves ( ashtrays etc.)
Ray of afternoon coatings, behaviors endlessly activated & tiring
Two humans talking and one says you don't mind if I go upstairs and lie down on the floor naked with a black cross painted on my stomach and people running around inside the room lighting fires.
He stepped out of the grey dock-surface and with his hands meticulously constructed a DNA-Double Helix from barbed wire and began to crawl through it
He was kept in an airplane-fence building as he was in a condition where once a linear month he would react to 'solids', i.e.. concrete etc.... and have 'attacks' (Manifested by becoming very quietly sociable, almost cooperative) & his mother had to have him kept there because she felt it was "a well advised precaution"
The same boy in a film-rear projected on a backdrop with a man watching the film. The boy runs out of the film to meet the man, matching his strides to the increasingly palpitations of his own image (broken projector, bar lines up and down his body as if the image were filmed off television). This running process takes forever and you and I are somehow involved in it
Young and severe looking, Monty Cantsin runs upstairs to talk to a girl, off-camera, but instead stops in front of a locked door. He begins to talk to the door, saying "Maria, come out now" and banging on the door. He also remembers to say "don't lock the door", which is a futile attempt at time travel, as he knows 'instinctively' that it is already locked. Is he 'in love with the door? Why is 'she' rejecting him?
Monty Cantsin's father enters downstairs with a severe facial expression, but then softens up and says to the girl (still off camera), "Maria, I just thought I'd drop by to give you this saucepan full of cold water, here, it's for you"
The process is simple, I placed two mirrors of different sizes with one side of each touching, facing each other, so that a limit of infinite reflections was created in a decreasing spiral (from my perspective, increasing from the limits), with the images of my room trapped in the tilted planes, and wrapped around a conch shell interior
Smell of burnt arm hairs alarms me & in the morning the smell alerts me to a mysterious cut ( on my arm) or placement (in time) but the sound of the birds still sounds like insects I always wanted to switch bodies for perspectival reasons measurement of time and ending the activation safely returned to the 'bungalow' structure at the instant of an empty cup.
So he walks off camera & emerges below his former position now as his own double & talking to himself
Drinking water from ones hands is a universal sign of friendship an connection to those around you, also a universal greeting
Original file name:Continuity Poem