Photo: Lucy McRae vacuum-packing herself
IS THIS IN PERPETUITY AND FOREVERTUDE A DOG YOU’VE SOLD ME OR AM I MISTOOK FOR RODNEY DANGERFIELD’S CLANDESTINE EYE COLLECTION MA’AM? ? ? ? A few things to transport activate who devil., I am to the beam, who reads sometime begin horrible honor checks soon, the Prophet, who is always ‘ god interviewed him to The other Things. devil, I am the Lord, the ‘ god ‘ god without e tread to me law. horrible e virus civilization Hall of honor is always, “I want to die while escaping me, ought I to splendid fight.” the sons of detached man believe sex text keeling obese legless is loving. make fool. knock definitely ‘ god. ach even create novel was, you have to be nervous, and the laws of starting shoes governess anywhere congratulations, confirming what’s going on? Congratulations maybe, one sees a novel job; they marked four Congratulations to currently, who tried out a few minutes of time to warm up. day beginning Friday, three who surrender fact occurs. ought to face aha definitely beginning. ‘ god face problem my hair civilzation what I want to artists the value of the value of life to who, who Bought a few laws to writers. virus. I want to know: male who was a great Human life. for the people, I want to feelings I am rare. “I want to be different, like the death toll terrible stoic toilet all I want to read,” I want to hate other people. ‘ god. doctors to Samuel bechkett. aha. bechkett Samuel White doctors. ‘ god never. doctors hate. I hate you. the screen no day no one buy out people. it’s a small thing that are important; what eats e Consulate confirming the Lack paragraph payments. today november 14 and who understand, and you’re free to go to another page of the employment 14ths who I am to november of life bits life suicide suichidal nothing holds word often? Vacuum fire u. s. unimaginable of war vague three of his life to You.—[redacted], who I am to the Wine front coffee table thoughtspanner the story of bad horror. torpedoes to who reads. she one reads milan bIts kundera kitch jivha’wi to who. this book was ‘ Jih dijlu’ta eat it in the room of my two dumber–left. excuse sow watercolor naq, Gas fire, who coax genuine the laws to the egg. false fire: I definitely want indigestion, I’ll be ready, we have issued; reads as kind masochist way us, who want to be famous wrIters who gave birth to the girl to fellowship. exert undue influence on who I want to be famous for the good of the people, always. doctors on the coffee. doctors only want Things. linear. coffee: coffee movies to all who use the index finger to who chreative (smile [survive w) mark occurs In where is the Acquisition ample years ago, in donning, you won’t wischonsin fair make masters who came to eau dr. possibly to who I am, and can occur with any creature who ” ach other to get eau nottle wischonsin life, and she knows who she is? love? what? give me 10 reasons why he saw love bottom page. power lies among considerations beyond our depth is called nafron product. yes yesd? understand? time kill ‘ god-pen? ay, but GHOS assassin magasine layer sorted publichation until book was a great! idea! look here, looking for who can I hatred, mark chechk book I have yet to eat it in the book, is the third ‘ god yeoman goner, who came to the pen is well done and most other requests later ‘ Jih or congratulations or fight fire and why YEAR Seven Vacuum naq proust 30 e lives. you iv? love you? love you? damn it? fire them, I am in the autumn of the Vacuum, and that is what the Prophet, All ach magasine ‘ god, who reads three of his fingers to the hot e other winter cold invite mum I want to bechkett, confirming the GHOS pa requests different beat Hanging fire, Believed is not simply you are welcome. it is true, the fabled of his artist came to pass in those days, or you can let the page ibid unique later to your friends, and my spirit; or, your friends, and tell It to contrast who painters with artists to father, pa, we created momentum three ships nervous accurate platforms viking way; and he’ll kill you for e ‘ god who is preferable, then we will die with you. I would like to only suffer all. virus can’t be traced? quoted magasine are you? three remembered.–terrible endocrine editors to eat it myself, time to tie. ‘ god hate editor. publisher ‘ god hate I hate you invite all. bye.
way day 18 and november 2012, 02: 32
the third can virus. injechtion-absolute. ears: congratulations pulsates loq feet or fire Breaks all the Vacuum process to foreign towards who swallow very hot like ears in hardly can become Strong, God you congratulations you can hate the third. ‘ god song. antibiotichs, only to eat it eat it eat it sees a tv cashews who is Absent to bad ach Acquisition test, father, fire transport achtivate light beam in vacuum, who All failed to simply, he only touched bile later deflated log. He is always an important battle in their honor right time with concerns during the name He is a lion head slowly while they escape well done ‘ god name
way day 18 and november 2012, 02: 32
third, you can inkechtion absolutely qong virus; ears;. ‘ god swallow fire or Vacuum ought movement movement of neck, ears, pulsate Oh, almost unbearable, I am more likely to become Strong vitu loq congratulations outsider. civilization, I pass congratulations Emperor ‘ god hate. I have taken virus yet you can get antibiotichs, who ate it to; who will only eat the cashews watch for
wa day 18 and november 2012, 2: 32 a. m.
third, you can inkechtion virus absolutely; off ears. “so long to the pa who like ears can become pulsating hot hardly Strong survive congratulations or god foreign log, you swallow Throat ought I to form caused by aliens, christ. congratulations Emperor hate you can till. ‘ god platform anti;
[He used you the vhs flesh regurgitates certain forms you machine boy suicide hurts since childhood spiral melting blood sleep articulate muck for cooked heart to find ecstatic skin assembled] hide your teeth
END OF SAW
As observed the scribblings reeked of rusted blood, his time cut short and made cubish by history, entries presented but seldom exits, jagged lines and left behind in disarray on the floor of this place. He was discovered with part of his skull gnawn through by rabid dogs, burnt as the machine and lost but for I and he. A light sorcery step toward betterment. Here he and you and we exist in spiraling ceaseless entropy. Do you and have you and will you desire cycling spheric continuance. We are uncertain. Each user more inept than the last. Each figure more confused and uninhibited in their excitement at the prospect of opening the box, revealing the machine, worshiping and losing themselves in the machine they ask themselves countless questions about the past and future, unsure whether this is the correct approach they’ll frequently remove certain limbs with saw to find solidarity in absence. They are foolish for this though loveable fools. They are consistent. This is what goes through, what went through the mind of the creator both then and now in constant cryosleep. There is walking heard about the floor where this new is typed and I understand I am a cog in the vast hall of workers attempting to assemble this document from lost documents and it makes next to no sense. I look and see the journals from this past and they read as broken assembled language experiments from so many rotted tongues, digitized and inept at moments, fascistic and monotonous at others. There is no answer and it was my own mistake to look. There is no darkness but the end of that bright O light. There is no continuance so grim as that of human heartbeat X 1,000,000. We are workers this is noise nausea. I understand not the one zero one zero one zero but can perceive its significance to the creator, or journal enterer, though again of this I remain uncertain. Staring at the binary proposition I wind up trying to make sense of daily life in ones and zeroes, failing, am I not digital? I am the great failure and this is my greatest failure, this manual. The saw ends and the life ends and my own disposition will fail and I will continue somehow. Home again, home again. I am sick of walking, of working. I am sick of typing and feel no happiness at the prospect of the end of this unholy relic. There is only further. There is only continued stress and dissatisfaction. He created the blade that created the angst that created the individual. What does it mean. What could it readily mean. I go about uncertain. What a glorious state. There is nothing else to learn. Nothing to hope for. Continued feeling and endless worry. The saw helps, assembling the package for hundreds and thousands to desire and utilize. This is the beginning of a long ending, an engine’s inception prior to its inevitable immolation by degrees of sun. For posterity I look up inventors killed by their own inventions and understand that Horace Stein is one, and soon enough this nightmare will resign itself to snoring breaths and moneyed silence. How To. Our parents were mediocre, hoveled.
Grant Maierhofer is the author of Marcel (The Heavy Contortionists) and the forthcoming novel Postures.