[NetBehaviour] histoire. memoire.

b xperimënts mediaidea at arkania.org
Tue Jul 3 13:46:32 CEST 2007


histoire. memoire


life is a wonderful
something


i have a parrot over my shoulder.
i don't know his name. (or her name, i can't see the sex of it)

someone said somewhere, death!

it was a scream.

and the parrot said, i'm here, i'm here.

it scared me because i wasn't use to his/her voice.


now, i've got a little used to it.


thanks, alan.


Alan Sondheim escribió:
> 
> 
> 
> histoire. memoire.
> 
> 
> life in this parts have been pretty good.
> http://www.asondheim.org/histoire.mp4
> good life has parted from me.
> life has never been good.
> 
> you might think more about life if you knew how close i was to death.
> i am a walking living death. i am welkin.
> i will take my life out like a dog.
> you will take your dog out to the desert beyond the desert.
> 
> they tackle my parasites and defeat me. my defeat strengthens me.
> my defeat strengthens me to defeat me.
> death, be my harbinger. an omen of omens, sign of signs.
> kings of kings and queens of queens.
> 
> my body is run replete with something of no consequence.
> i speak to you over the wires.
> plates of glass and memories ta'en up and laid to rest.
> i rescue you in bitterness for the gall and ferocity of life.
> 
> i will gouge my eyes out if you don't.
> if you don't gouge out my eyes, i will.
> if you don't gouge out your eyes, i will.
> you will gouge out your eyes if i don't.
> 
> hello earth i am not dead i am not healthy. i am what you say.
> life, you are a maelstrom to me.
> i will put out my eyes and put out my life.
> 
> you will shoot it. then you will shoot yourself.
> these words were spoken by a dead man a dead woman.
> they live inside of me furiously.
> i will defeat myself i will kill myself.
> 
> i will give a yes yes yes to life. i will give nothing up to death.
> you can see death in their eyes. you can see eyes.
> sometimes you wake up and you think; eyes are all i see.
> a world of eyes watching death, cultivating the garden of death.
> 
> the wires burn; there is the smell of burning flesh.
> burning flesh, wires, photography and photography's plates.
> running everywhere but where.
> the fireflies light up the sightless nighttime sky.
> 
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