Anus Decolonial
Output Writing Version 1
Zero
the last number invented
here I am, just an anus.
an insertion ports
the invisible garden
the corner of our cruising
the unlit room in the club
becoming flowers and wild boars
making love with Arabs
May '68 taught us to read the writing on the walls
there is no wine, candles, or roses
but everything flourishing in the darkness
the negative space of being
I am the moon, shadow, passivity.
I am female, African, Middle Eastern, underclass, terrorist.
put a pencil in the hand of a masturbator
Couples are the greatest violence and empire.
I refuse - the silent tango comes to an abrupt halt.
happy (not) together
between being and (non) being
(non) definition
(non) future
(non) ontological position
between zero and one
before fiat lux
before language
before senses
before the before
before after fiat lux
before after that before
no vagina
no penis
hole
whole
Output Writing Version 2
Three presences:
Andere (shaman), B, Z
As Venus shines brightest in the sky,
Homo sapiens struggle to survive on a dying Earth
that increasingly resembles the toxic atmosphere of Venus,
dreaming of flourishing again by mutating into post-humans.
Shaman Andere performs rituals to
allow endangered sea anemones to invade human bodies
Andere (shaman) :
Welcome all the new world workers, masturbate!
To make the walls sing.
To dance, to laugh, to celebrate!
no heterosexual tightly closed doors here,
only a multidimensional space
without any bony edges,
There is no subject here,
we are left to our uninterrupted passions,
we love a pulsating life,
that tingles and swells,
only with a bio-port that
to eat and excrete,
eternally sinking and rising,
a longing, never be silenced,
metamorphose and reproduce with light energy,
into the peach-blossoming night forest,
the endless poisonous purple mists,
we begin to grow fluid,
making our stretching skin bleed,
mixed with our menstrual blood, pre-cum, saliva, urine,
succulent, toxic humans,
translucent tentacles,
dissolving in the environment,
fragile, sickly, somnambulistic, and clingy,
paradise is rotting,
our fates look at us,
long since lost our sights,
back before language,
tentacles cling to each other,
no longer distinguish each other's shapes,
the universe is promiscuous,
desire is blind,
swing to the disco with the darkness of the cosmic dimension,
we no longer fear,
breathing is reproductive,
it births the atmosphere,
shit is reproductive,
it births the atmosphere,
dying is reproductive,
it births the atmosphere.
B:
I am destined to disappear,
dis/appear,
destined to perish in another.
put this moment in the can,
I love you,
for ten thousand years.
Z:
Never am I alone.
Many who lived before me
and made efforts before me
were weaving
weaving
on my being.
And if I now sit down beside you
and quietly say: I suffered
do you hear?
who knows,
who is murmuring