YOU DESERVE TO DIE BEFORE ME

Above 2°C.

Extinction, not death.

Yes and that can be contained, extended and made into something like a ritual object, like a table.

Angelicism is a pure white table with the word extinction written on it that costs a trillion dollars.

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‘I wound.’
you sound and feel very open, like u feel the whole thing
as in indeed ‘we must do something’, which we must
next year what u must do is work as part of angelicism
i will pay u to do so
what we must do is this
we must do this because there is too much to feel
we must do this because there is too much
because there is too much to feel because perhaps all is ending uniquely
because this is too much we must contain
we must contain because we want to see it
we don’t want to miss it
the end, that is
the genocide

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’Vulnerable’ is ultimately derived from the Latin noun vulnus (‘wound’). Vulnus led to the Latin verb vulnerare, meaning ‘to wound’, and then to the Late Latin adjective vulnerabilis, which became ‘vulnerable’ in English in the early 1600s.

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did i say i was in love with u? i might have done so but i would have meant it absolutely in the terms set out just now, that is, in terms which can continue. angelicism can be a date that goes on forever as a matter of language passion and commitment to the work of seeing extinction qua extinction before the end. since i am totally clear that i am not here for relationships then i am available to something else as love. im working through how it managed to hook me for a while but i move fast im all about next year now. we’re working to open a space of intelligence in which ppl can work in new ways on the language vibes of extinction so as to make a mathematics and a universal language that can help civilization get beyond the great filter as an outline theorem. when someone understands this, as u do, i am likely to evoke true love

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but why the limit of it
i mean why limit the meaning of it
why the limit of love
when it is obvious most of us are too vulnerable to love in a human way now
we have to find another way
i said it as a hypothetical
i dont remember how i said it after that
but if u move things into the realm of faces, eyes, touching
then u move things away from angelicism
and the pure work
and the pure love born of the pure work

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There really isn’t anything I can do about this situation. Language itself is painful. It carries pain within it. I myself experience language in terms of pain and sometimes it’s unbearable, excruciating. Language is pain. I think of angelicism as an event that made language, the space of language, very vulnerable for a moment. It made language be in pain. Vulnerabilis (‘injurious, wounding’), from Latin vulnero (‘I wound’). My Rinpoche has been leading us through a vulnerability practice. Within myself, I feel the only chance is to be very vulnerable. If the pain is more than excessive, all I can do is spend a moment with it, then another—with not being able to bear its excess. This I can only just do. I only just can do . . . it.

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what would u do for the world
to stay between it and you
to save the ending from ending

what became of that night
kisses too perfect for life
was that i stood between it

and you, and believed i
had to kill myself more deeply
to stay alive for this

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nothing always so

vulnerable again
to nothing
and nothing within

nothing’s love breaches
every wall
calmness the middle

devouring every solstice

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what would u do for the world
to stay between it and you
to save the ending from ending

what became of the night
kissed too perfectly for life
was how i stood where it is

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extinction too fast
for real love to compete
and u think quantum money

could make no difference
we need

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perhaps the midwinter
point is now extinction
too fast reel for love

to ever complete again
and money speaking
nothing always so

vulnerable again
to nothing
and nothing within

nothing’s love opens
every wall
calmness the middle

devouring every inside

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perhaps the midsummer
point is now extinction
too fast for ever love

to ever compete again
and money laundering
nothing always so

nothing again
so vulnerable
as nothing to nothing

devouring every ecstasy
already 2°C above
thus come one gone

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Sometimes, quite often, varyingly, I have felt real pain around its crypticity. In July and August I sometimes felt so vulnerable towards this crypticity that it was like dying. I felt like I was being ‘written-across’ or ‘written-through’. It’s something I’ve noticed in poets, especially young ones, the use of language to prise open a field of vulnerability. Without containment, this vulnerability is too much. Simply too much.

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If I make all this more specific, I’m not sure it helps. I could say ‘you wrote such and such a thing and I didn’t know what it meant’.

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There is nothing I can do and say. There is nothing I can say or do.

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I’m assuming you’re in a house still with someone going through the stages of grief in a nation probably hit hardest in the world by this fake ass fr genocide. You’re pretending to be invisible but you’re not. You blame me for posting but you never stopped. You’re pretending to be invisible but I’m reflecting on invisibility all the time. You deserve to die before me.

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I’m reading the Kennedy book on Fauci at the moment and tbh everything is nothing next to how much that makes my blood simmer and rage. I’ve been far too circumspect in my condemnations of this genocide. Your actions don’t make sense to me even though they must to you. Somewhere Weil says about ‘justice’ being non-reading of the other. Like, I might insist what you do is hurtful, but ultimately that is just a reading that can never be checked. You might still be angry about thing x that was said at the end of the Summer, but on asking you might find out such and such a different truth about it. When I said shit like I would do y or something, I actually never did that. Did the opposite, always had your back. Justice: to not throw the book at the other. To not think I know how to read you even if I am furious. To not condemn them even if I need to rage at them to get away. I feel angry about it but so what, there is a fr fr genocide going on.

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You deserve to die before me. Extinction, not death.

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Anything you do is fine by me. Given a speedballing attenuation going on and constant pain for the last 20 years at least it’s hardly gonna swerve me. Thing is, if you unfollow me, there is no friendship left. Saintly friendship takes rare souls, containment, a rare form of commitment. I’m all down for the evacuation even of friendship. But if you start with angelicism01, why stop there? Why have a bf, a best friend, any fidelity to any living human thing? Not caring is almost impossible and if you want to not read angelicism, cool, but why are you reading the other thing, since all reading is equal?

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You must learn to limit your inner ocean or all life will end without you.

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You’ve let me know you don’t and won’t be reading me. 

So now I can say it.

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Global human genocide is happening at the same time as extinction.

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This text wanted to be a container. That which limits is god.