No subject

[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

>>                         Without fences, without name, without meaning.
>>                         only the lively movement of a double being"    
>> 
>>                         - m.kuzmanovic once upon a MOTHER FUCKING time speakin
>g to aprox "12 of me"
>> 
>
>"I want your  movements to travel tangibly towards me warp my space and
>change
>my perspective. I want you to fill up all your molecules  with life. I want to
>feed on you and you to feed on me, oscillating together within 1x membrane of
>realities."


http://libarynth.f0.am/cgi-bin/twiki/view/Libarynth/SpongeStory

"that is what they were - stories. drugs.. extremely addictive and euphoric"

michaelangelo painted a mans hand reaching towards the hand of god. he did
not paint them touching.




>> tzzz
>
>how are you?

story -> simply.real -> story -> simply.real ... washing maschine



There once was a painter--a brilliant painter,
who mastered the art of replication and the depiction of the beautiful. 
Yet he was lonely, he felt that there was no one alive who 
could understand him, no one capable of perceiving his entire being. 

One morning he wept in his garden, crying to god to send
him someone who might comprehend his full beauty. 
That day, he painted a new canvas, a portrait of an unknown and 
stunningly beautiful woman. When he had finished, he cried to god 
to give her sentience, as this most wondrous painting could be the 
only being in the world who might understand him. To his amazement, the
woman in the painting began to move.


"Hello! Hello!" he cried to her.

"Where are you?" she replied.

"Here, beside you!"    

The woman in the painting looked around her.

"Are you up, or down? Across?" she asked.

"No, No", the painter implored, "I am...I am...out!"

"Out? What is _out_?" she replied.

"Out! Out here!"

The woman did not understand him. 
She only knew two dimensions--vertical and horizontal. Her world was that of the flat canvas.
The painter ran out to his garden and threw himself onto the ground.

"God, oh god!" he wept. "Where are you?"

"Out." came the reply.








fully imagined futures are the luxury of another day
x-ray imaging eliminates the difference between inside + outside