This constitutes a “free-write” – as I understand the phrase it is an allowance one gives oneself to just make language, unedited, unplanned, in a “spirit” of ex-pression…i.e. a “press(ur)ing- out.” [see suspend]
Spillage, in other words.
And…”in other words,” always, from the first word.
At its release – like an arm movement; a choice of caress, breath, or handhold; a motivation to swerve, or bend, sit, or rise; nigh-automated intention to breathe… a beating of heart, or functioning of organ; lighting a match; attention.
Release a word. Some oddly shaped sound, emitted complexly from the nerves, the brain, the belly. Bellowed air up the windpipe, wending the throat, curling the cavity of mouth, (you can almost feel air in the eyes – perhaps you can!), a scent is involved, a tongue roving weirdly, a tapping of teeth and positioning of jaw…
Or… the combination of organs and neurons, plasma and plastics, rutting a body in accord with a world, activating…firing and sliding, acting re-acting, trans-mitting… and a tension in shouldered muscle begins to stir, roiling down “arm,” triggering the delicate tendons and tissue of “hand,” fingering pencil…and con-script-ed together, they “write…”
And from the first word it is other.
Pressed into and out of the body. Im-pression, re-sponse, and in-tension. (You see the looping?). Out of, into, and back out without measure.
Mathematically speaking, the first term, generates an uncomputable, undecidable, indeterminate and infinite universe of possibilities. Simultaneously foreclosing the same.
Which is why the Moment’s of import. And why statistically, it is inane.
“Spillage” set into motion. “, in other words.” For this organism, now.
Out of infinite potential, a violent reduction to that: “Spillage, in other words.”
In other words, from the first word, an infinity ruled out. By my finitude.
In other words, from the first word, an infinity opened up. By language, and you, all the times, and the spaces.
Pressed in, it moves out. Pressed out, moving in. Always moving.
A “moment” cannot exist.
We switch on. (We do not.)
Then what are we “meaning” by “free”?
A “free-write” I inscribed, but it’s not – bound by me, my experience, education, now here. By my body-environment mesh. By this medium, this sign-system (language), this trial.
And why do then? Why mingle, behave, interact, or respond? Why continue?
continue (v.) mid-14c., contynuen, from Old French continuer (13c.), from Latin continuare “join together, connect, make or be continuous,” from continuus “uninterrupted,” from continere (intransitive) “to be uninterrupted,” literally “to hang together” (see contain). Related: Continued; continuing.
(“Online Etymology Dictionary,” 2016)
How could I “make continuous” what is never discrete? And why are our actions and terms bent on negation / separation (discretion)?
What do we wish to “clarify” by pulling-apart, setting-forth, ripping of context, of living?
We humans have so many re-‘s. As if we do it again, and ourselves (WHAT is THAT?) we might own it or know it, or even come cause. How absurd.
We’re participant. To speak is to join. To move is WITH-IN. To think and to act are to fuse with surround. As much caused as its causing, ground and ideal, this is living. To be fluidly unidentifiable, continuously as such.
What IS (chasing ‘essence’) is futile. What IS (what’s ‘existing’) is all.
How might I write in this way? Write to join? Say to be? The mouth and the ass as the same? I breathe and I shit; I grab and release; take in and give out…unrestrained. Without end or cessation (as far as we know at our miniature range)…
WITH and withOUT “us”
Here we are.