top of page
  • Writer's pictureAmelia Nicol


Better leave the parts missing themselves to the sound of interstitial fluids apart the rest of the figures of speech that mean to tap at your memories. As if so much could possibly possess any carried variance of thought from one circumstance to another. As if the gates were all for your usage alone, or if you could imagine those pulls from different leverage, the intent would deliver itself from the presumption of influence or impersonating air of ownership. Passing around, guessing, considering leaving this behind differently this time; an absurdity limit in the conditioning of irrational logic. Never mind, and any place you could have happened into was your own fault or in some way a persistence, though entirely beyond the actual circumstances. There was blank space drawn on the back of a map for this once, for the idea of scaling to a formulaic rhetoric or something. Interruptions of self regard or nervous venting portals of dissonant hum and beat to digestions of different formulated response. Networks of contingent and non-commensurable meta-data transcribing itself according to off-stance and setting postulates in ready frequency and available data. Monitoring slips off the deep cavernous stupidity that assumptions of self beyond rebellion are fair to anybody. Nicety extremities and fault lying defensiveness the places left the likes of us. Betterment betrayal and dubious severity avoidance the same superstitious defiance mystery refusals. Any other orthodoxy impression finding originality devices for finding inspiration apart the usual or mains allowed those telling our stories against us? Hopes writing beyond oneself catches up in the usual poetry, escape the miscreant anxiety for impersonation. This age for free thought and it’s usual casting for moral box woman and their proletariat generals allowing attainability from empirical information that must belong to only one field. Transference of data between bodies, remember all the data is recounting itself and for accuracies sake the only way they’d hear it is under a cap. Dismiss the supposedly invited, there is nothing and varied loud silencing definitions and possible weighting mechanisms in digestion and transference. The ways to feel my own thoughts move, these excused protrusions of grandeur or self assurance that no one ever heard of. Data as the nutrients, the recombination values in thresholds or the possibility in reception or actual understanding. Just understand I can’t, there’s the ever present slowing humbleness that disallows the continuing confidence in one’s own thought. Virulence and immunity, the conjectures at which a thought reaches you, the points at which a cell will dismantle itself or the ways in which our limbs are directed. Series of instance reflecting considerate refraction of potential or digestive manifestation. Used up loses these factoring digestions of memory, those plasmids and offsets of factors just floating around waiting for another chain or indicative to recreate or initiate potentials in another event or instance for continuance. Integration or peripheral causes for manipulation in the necessary change of pressure from one tissue to the next. Those projecting structures for potential, the usual assimilation fury; belonging possessions and preordained obviousness. Haunting casualties and formidable sudden enclosure profiles of sequence and supposed consequence. Ghosts any other sort of protein those projections for instance in certain reference of hormone or surrounding gradient, the ongoing medium; those invisible structures to manifest themselves digestive property. Zippers pulled without directions and those perfect indications will never fit a contradiction you have for them. Those categories easily rounded up toward our understandings as if those were the only places for them left to fill. Absolutist values for a grip in emotional or thought formulate in finding a congruence insignificant enough to substantiate itself in permeability. The attachments of sudden peripheral to off-stance that hasn’t been measured; the anatomical fear of that unknown within the body those spaces in which there is only transition. Conditions for reformation or the pre-fabricative assimilation patterns of assumption upon attainability or the manipulative plunges of weary myths and easily suggested propaganda. How to tell a fabrication lie from a helpful myth or parable, a conspiracy from the harmless superstition or the paranoia drowning with bewary signs and insistence against the governing values of everything in riddles and harmless insight. Have differing opinions tossed about the ways in which it could digest itself eventually, with no need for the embarrassing reminders of failure or constant mimicry we’ve already automatically depressed ourselves from without indents.

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page