"Sensation is vibration. We know that the egg reveals just this state of the body "before" organic representation: axes and vectors, gradients, zones, cinematic movements, and dynamic tendencies, in relation to which forms are contingent or accessory. "No mouth. No tongue. No teeth. No larynx. No esophagus. No belly. No anus." It is a whole nonorganic life, for the organism is not life, it is what imprisons life.
A wave with a variable amplitude flows through the body without organs; it traces zones and levels on this body according to the variations of its amplitude. When the wave encounters external forces at a particular level, a sensation appears. An organ will be determined by this encounter, but it is a provisional organ that endures only as long as the passage of the wave and the action of the force, and which will be displaced in order to be posited elsewhere. "No organ is constant as regards either function or position […]”
The lived body is still a paltry thing in comparison with a more profound and almost unlivable Power. We can seek the unity of rhythm only at the point where rhythm itself plunges into chaos, into the night, at the point where the differences of level are perpetually and violently mixed." --G. Deleuze
Dreamt I ruined and lost mater's wedding ring. Wedding ring, irl, was bought at Fiesta Mart. Gold band. $75.
There is not a lot. To ruin. You could make it messier. You could detach. That is the most.
Ruddied. In aisle of candy. I feel it lift off my head. Stare up and the shelving in front of me is swaying. A labored lunge, slow but threatening, shelving coming closer to the floor, my body, like an expansion. I feel my legs push me back quickly and I knock into some condiments behind me. Some relish rolls out by the ankles. It goes bright. Lots of clutching / try to collect. I look to my right and a woman and a man look at me like I have done something very impolite. Where is their confirmation of event. I look at them did you see? They look at me they did not see. I was pleading inside me for them to share the fear. So sure that this movement of the wall was real. Prospect of toppling supermarket shelf, the vision of that, was its own kind of fear. But now this is Terror. It is all my own now. Only I saw. Not a figment can't but it was. There was no swaying. There was no danger. They did not see anything. There was nothing to see aside from my own falling. Symptoms of a fatigued hallucination manifested as a clumsiness. Can't take it back. It was inside.
Still on. Still hooked on. Hooked on honey footed cat.
I know it is a boy. But the body stretched along the sheets in a position that looks like an undulation forces me to feel him a beautiful woman. And in squinting. There is a union. An inside, core fusion of the feminine runs so deeply through that boy, that it manifests in physical movement, positionings. Saintly. An acceptance of the other gender, one undeniable, one without any real degree of effort, perhaps inborn. A future embrace. The new human. Magnetic. I'll envy but stay it in recognition, try to work toward a more pure admiration, salutations dunked in reverence. Just the way you are.