Theoretical Indifference
I overheard the term theoretical practice, I recognized myself immediately, I am a practitioner of theory, so you could say, and be right in saying so that I practice theory though not in the sense of theoretical practice. I don’t practice theory because I practice theory. Its when I hear mierda like this that I am convinced that the goal of life is to drive us to the brink of suicide and then to prevent us from committing it. That is the balancing act of life to make us want to kill ourselves only to prevent us from doing it in the end.
How often a desperate, goes to a bridge to escape social madness only to have society talk her out of it, that is why life is so static, its a theoretical practice. I can go into diatribes like this because to me they are not real. Please understand that that they are real but so much of what I see is not real to me that it is just not real.
Theoretical practice for me is excruciating reality, my mother could have never ever mated with my father, my mother and father had nothing in common, lovers must have excruciating realities in common, lovers know things about the world that are the same, lovers betray the world with the same lies, and each other. My parents had no such communion. There is a universal law that is esoteric yet irrevocable, that is that in order for copulation to lead to pregnancy the mating partners, lovers have to be twin souls in suffering and feeling. This is b´ecause no child can be borne to incompatible couples, only compatible parents, fundamentally compatible partners, can produce an offspring. The implications of artificial insemination ought be obvious and couples that insist on mating but fail to have children simply do not realize their mutual incompatibility, but nature does.
Beating heart. My parents I tell you are incompatible to the core. Their hearts keep a different rhythm, their souls dance to a different melody, and my father does not even dance, solemn is his soul, their minds are not even opposites they are so completely different that opposition would not help to define them nor add the relationship that opposites provide for eachother; for my parents to have fornicated was equal to ice cubes made of hydrogen poured into your drink. Pounding heart.
But in theory this is where I come in, my parents consummated their relationship, they penetrated and violated each other. Both of course had to be out of their minds because that is the only explicable explanation for the inexplicable. Against universal law, breaking sacred protocol, secular and natural law, I was borne the first and only known theoretical child, to live in theoretical practice.
The end result has to be wonderful, pure theory, ineffectual, feeling all, felt by none! A walking curse to some, a spectacle to others, fear and contempt to most. Of course my parents upon the realization of their egregious transgression pulled away from each other, rushed madly, ripped each other apart, but as tragedy would have it if two impossibles meet, the strange force, the strange force that can cause stuff like that to happen, is so absolutist that it is preposterously impossible to separate them, all beings and things have to have communality to bond together and propagate but for those held captive by the strange force.
My parents would live apart but nothing could eliminate the effects of the strange force, they could not forget the horror, they could not belong to another. The intrusion, for my dears nothing can cause a soul more distress than to be mated with a stranger, with an aliens heart, with someone other, that trick alone disembodies the soul, and so in a sense I am the apparition of my parents, fission, that separates fussed, fusion that implodes, brings together mass to critical proportions, and uncontrollable combustionable reactions hence my emotional distress.
I, never the possessor of my own soul but rather the experiment of fusing strangers, catapulting limbs and organs simultaneously in cardinal directions, existed because in a moment of fundamental weakness these two souls felt their loneliness to be so extreme that to buried it, to storm it away, they slept with an unknown, they cornered each other to suffocate the emptiness. Loneliness the strangest force, called on more emptiness to comfort those long over exposed to the elements. I am their son, the evidence of the transgression, a transgression that no entity would bother to punish because impossibles only occur in practical theory, and everyone already knows that that is not even a possible contradiction. And even if it remotely was a contradiction, contradictions are not self sustainable.
I was an artist of sorts, which is to say that I was for sure not self sustainable. Theory implodes, it has no capacity to inflict permanent damage, I try to talk to death everyday.
How often a desperate, goes to a bridge to escape social madness only to have society talk her out of it, that is why life is so static, its a theoretical practice. I can go into diatribes like this because to me they are not real. Please understand that that they are real but so much of what I see is not real to me that it is just not real.
Theoretical practice for me is excruciating reality, my mother could have never ever mated with my father, my mother and father had nothing in common, lovers must have excruciating realities in common, lovers know things about the world that are the same, lovers betray the world with the same lies, and each other. My parents had no such communion. There is a universal law that is esoteric yet irrevocable, that is that in order for copulation to lead to pregnancy the mating partners, lovers have to be twin souls in suffering and feeling. This is b´ecause no child can be borne to incompatible couples, only compatible parents, fundamentally compatible partners, can produce an offspring. The implications of artificial insemination ought be obvious and couples that insist on mating but fail to have children simply do not realize their mutual incompatibility, but nature does.
Beating heart. My parents I tell you are incompatible to the core. Their hearts keep a different rhythm, their souls dance to a different melody, and my father does not even dance, solemn is his soul, their minds are not even opposites they are so completely different that opposition would not help to define them nor add the relationship that opposites provide for eachother; for my parents to have fornicated was equal to ice cubes made of hydrogen poured into your drink. Pounding heart.
But in theory this is where I come in, my parents consummated their relationship, they penetrated and violated each other. Both of course had to be out of their minds because that is the only explicable explanation for the inexplicable. Against universal law, breaking sacred protocol, secular and natural law, I was borne the first and only known theoretical child, to live in theoretical practice.
The end result has to be wonderful, pure theory, ineffectual, feeling all, felt by none! A walking curse to some, a spectacle to others, fear and contempt to most. Of course my parents upon the realization of their egregious transgression pulled away from each other, rushed madly, ripped each other apart, but as tragedy would have it if two impossibles meet, the strange force, the strange force that can cause stuff like that to happen, is so absolutist that it is preposterously impossible to separate them, all beings and things have to have communality to bond together and propagate but for those held captive by the strange force.
My parents would live apart but nothing could eliminate the effects of the strange force, they could not forget the horror, they could not belong to another. The intrusion, for my dears nothing can cause a soul more distress than to be mated with a stranger, with an aliens heart, with someone other, that trick alone disembodies the soul, and so in a sense I am the apparition of my parents, fission, that separates fussed, fusion that implodes, brings together mass to critical proportions, and uncontrollable combustionable reactions hence my emotional distress.
I, never the possessor of my own soul but rather the experiment of fusing strangers, catapulting limbs and organs simultaneously in cardinal directions, existed because in a moment of fundamental weakness these two souls felt their loneliness to be so extreme that to buried it, to storm it away, they slept with an unknown, they cornered each other to suffocate the emptiness. Loneliness the strangest force, called on more emptiness to comfort those long over exposed to the elements. I am their son, the evidence of the transgression, a transgression that no entity would bother to punish because impossibles only occur in practical theory, and everyone already knows that that is not even a possible contradiction. And even if it remotely was a contradiction, contradictions are not self sustainable.
I was an artist of sorts, which is to say that I was for sure not self sustainable. Theory implodes, it has no capacity to inflict permanent damage, I try to talk to death everyday.
posted by Ricardo Correa at
2:27 PM
