‘one of the following 8 items is bogus’
Portsmouth December 6th: Failed to leave the house today – dark when I woke – dark now. Rain has come and gone along with a builder in a red van. Have spent all day dividing photographs taken on phone and researching project links on the web.
Disturbed dreaming turmoil boils skin thin beneath the heated blanket I sit under. A child next door screams and stamp again – they must belong to the ‘unhappiest children in the universe’ I am supposed to be ‘elsewhere’ but am unable to deliver – bonds invisible to the eye hold me – hold me in – side.
one Saturday I did meet Harry at the leaving do, held underground after skirting a closed Trafalgar SQ in the rain and darkness. ‘F*** work’ he said referring to his time looking after those ‘lost for words’ and what was imposed on them. Apparent Dyslexia has another 8 letters to play with in no predetermined order of celebration. Another puzzle to find the pieces that fit – switch on ‘automatic spell cheek’
So select and post on social media the odd one out.
Oblivious
Antarctic
Hoover
lid
Saturn
moral
ship
cup
‘An unmotivated seeings of connections’
Portsmouth December 6th: 16 random phrases – please cut and repeat under your breath in public.
Strict rules
Reiteration dismissal
Pulse transformation
Limited autonomy
Single permissions
Austere technology
Move in endless circles
Serious exposure
Immobile emphasis
I am cold
Stylistic pitch
Goal directed motion
Seductive propaganda
Dangerous aspect
Serial output
Structure stasis
‘For my feet have gained guile’
Portsmouth December 6th: System process system process. Morning alterations no longer an early riser but the dreams have become violent watching fingers move tick tock tick tock tick tock as the evenings draw in tight and icy. No more to travel – waiting for results.
She is here – she lights up – she moves after a minimalist fashion in multiple ways to choose – attempts to filter the essence lays ahead but the process is fixed written in stone and drawn in boxes with key codes in sharp pencil.
I learn to lean on my A S P E R G E R and shout O X Y T O C I N to eliminate random movements set free to run each picked out in red momentarily against aluminum – reflecting in series – rhythmic in length and step back and forth transforming as I turn.
To choose the whole or the detail – retreading through ripple marked sands – each worm cast stands proud against the retreating salted waters – each a world inhabited for feeding – breeding – perpetuation of the self in leaner times. The beach falls away preserved for 128 million years – time and moment caught as cemented sand grains mimic the home.
I can see its place in the timeline
I can see its worth
I can see the traces of life
I can see the whole.
I can see the process
I can see the sound
Re-folding 7 complex envelopes
Portsmouth November 15th: weirdly am not awake at 4am – ironic as I miss this familiar friendship although the dreams are 99% the same – wonder if this is a permanent change or just chance – will need a few days to start to systemize any differences or find the pattern – for now the break is obviously improvement – a whole self whispering aspergers tells me from one shoulder there is a shift somewhere difficult to pin point on my ring of fire but all connected.
Thursday – self centering – I decide to stay in – unheard of but resting and testing is coexistent. Now the reading and reading and reading which can be broken into segments and stapled for easy digestion and attention span – ordering by alphabet or position is the next choice but I am unable to decide so push to one side – all abandoned – not needed as yet. Start to take apart to put together – turning to self I connect – connect – in – out – turn – attenuate. Distracted by pain I sit to simple tasks of relabeling with coloured stickers drawn to colour references and meanings – setting out new codes so I cannot forget – short term memory deficiency – I always say I won’t forget but then do – many times I have forgotten – dysmemory function resorts to writing it down but effective only if I can read my own spider handwriting – if I have to ask someone else to read it why not ask them to remember in the first place?
A visual spatial gift – maybe draw to remember not drawn to remember – maybe I should go and sit under the pier to shelter from the rain – a steel boat upturned in a desert – hot and reddened with sun or age.
I wish to hear – 48 choices each of 60 – hastiness patience prevails– the pedulum swings back and forth accompanied with red dots filling in the squares that can come later – I decide to read again unveiling system warnings laced with common sense.
‘If on occasion I should behave in unexpected or undesired fashion, the user should review the configuration entered to make sure it actually makes sense’
Gabriel’s horn
Portsmouth November 1st -14th: 2 weeks pass – same dreams inside my head bleed through into the outside with a different angle – find myself woken – often broken – induced to swim against tide – the wrong sort of ‘leaves’ on the line – tickets accepted on ‘all other routes’ – delay of 300ms – people become the nemesis I long to avoid in both worlds but I keep coming back – 2 weeks thinking and preparing – 2 weeks difference dreaming till she arrives – contemplating not connective white matter but dark cold matters measured in Kelvin – lightyears from home.
She is coming – but today a day to analyze the clicks and thumps of magnetic charges flowing through supercooled conductors – flux – flux – flux switching on and off – reversed polarity spin – all cut looped and repeated in sequences yet slowed in pitch and fe.roc.i.ty.
Returning week 2 – silver planet resting upon the floor unmoved – seated side by side I see your fingers move back and forth – calming – returning me to a Serpentine cove safe and warm – she comes – she comes to greet me.
Accidental found works as words picked from a desk on A4 paper:
ERROR: Limitcheck
offending command: image.
We unwrap together our liberation within silver boxes – Experimentation will begin in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,
