#experimentalwriting

[cerisenoire-html]

Sound and Light

Let me watch artists on stage Like ants who live to create Improvising chords through their third eye

I want to lap up every ounce of emotion emitted

I yearn to be bathed in sound and light Drown me in strobe lights and 808s Cover me in green and pink and white and black

I crave the feeling of drums in my chest A throbbing baseline down my spine

Lightning and thunder from the main stage Flooding through the cracks of the front doors All of their particles and waves Otherworldly atoms emitted from instruments

[saintbullyblue]

blind hedonist manifesto

[scanpoetry]

[sebastianandresvis]

Finding an EMPTY SPACE is my graduation project!

Whether you like it or not; everything changes and the world around us is chaotic, weird, and incomprehensible. Yet, here we are! All breathing, reading Pinterest captions, and sometimes even typing behind typewriters.

Writing on a typewriter allowed me to create visual compositions in a completely different manner than I would on a computer. Other than being sensitive to mistakes and being time-expensive, the typewriter offers a grid where creation might be limited but therefore feels limitless.

You type it, you see it, and it’s there on paper. It is the sounds of the keys, the rolling of the paper, and the rewinding of the sentence. The way you can softly press or SMASH IT IN.

Find more artworks: @sebastianandresvis

[kajapopko123456]

William S. Burroughs: A Man Within review by Kaja Popko

William S. Burroughs: A Man Within explores the life of a Beat writer who was arguably the grittiest and most bedeviling of the group. Despite his association with punk and grunge, Burroughs's work was lyrically plaintive and his voice provided a window to his ineffable sadness. The documentary features interviews with Burroughs and his admirers, but they frustratingly only alight on his literary significance when speaking in terms of personal influence. Leyser attempts to equate Burroughs's gun fetishism with Hunter S. Thompson's recklessness, but Burroughs's most accomplished fiction was the boiling run-off of his inner-demon-induced sweat. Burroughs epitomized the 20th-century ideal of the over-educated libertine and forever changed the conversation about sexual orientation, but his last boyfriend recounts an evening where he confessed his love, only to be laughingly dismissed. A Man Within persuasively argues that Burroughs's most dangerous addiction might have been the refusal of love.

Kaja_Popko

[spanta2ra]

Glitch Queen: A Postmodern Lament in Pixels and Pop

I. Glitch and Glam

Oh pixel-painted face, divine yet torn apart, Your eyes—so clear—hide chaos in your heart. A broken screen, a digital Mona Lisa glitching, With brows on fleek and lips that keep twitching.

You strut in frames that time forgot to save, Half Hollywood starlet, half anime waif. Your silhouette—elegant, yet buffering in place, Lost in the lag of a 90s dial-up space.

You’re not a dream, but a .JPEG with sass, A techno-muse caught mid-loading—alas!

II. Language: Mixed, Mashed & Memeified

You speak in filters, sigh in loops, cry in GIFs, Your catchphrase? A fusion of “hey you , salam” and “Wassup, sis?”

You’re not Korean, not Persian, not from Tokyo Town— But somehow you’ve “K-drama’d” your way into this crown. Half "oppa," half "OMG," fully “what the hell?” You’re trending, my dear, in every alt-spell.

Your bio says: "Dreamer, glitcher, digital girl," Your thoughts are streamed, your lashes in curl. With hashtags like “sadcore” and “pixel bae,” You shop in Clickistan, you slay in Overlay.

III. Hypermodern Romance

They liked your pic—was that love or just scroll? A heart emoji on your face… with a latency hole. Your tears? Just wet pixels. Your blush? RGB. Romance through bandwidth—no place for empathy.

Oh daughter of Photoshop, child of cloud, Worshipped by avatars, alone in a crowd. No perfume but metadata, no touch but screen— You kiss like a captcha. You smile like a meme.

IV. Final Frame

One day, dear Glitch Queen, your face might load clean, With no filter, no error, no static between. But till that day comes, we’ll cheer and repost, The ghost in the stream we pixel-love most.

[trishivaay]

And Yet It Chases Me

In a world drowning in opinions, we forget to listen to the earth — and to each other. I’ve written a poem titled And Yet It Chases Me — a twin cinema poem built on the foundation of Absurdism, echoing ideas from the philosophies of Albert Camus. It’s told through two fictional voices: Shivu, who believes in the constant upgrading of ideas as a form of progress. Mussu, who mourns what humanity and nature lose in the name of that so-called progress. Read separately, they offer their own truths. Read together, they form a third, deeper narrative — one about meaning, progress, violence, and the inevitable clash of opinions. It’s an attempt to capture how belief systems rise, collide, and consume us in this absurd world. Would love to know how it lands with you.

[fi3lt]

Lost Connection

Where am I...

Day in, day out...

Who am I...

Day in, day out…

Let's start at the beginning

It started with that bloody report.

It seems like ages ago now that I…

Two headlights shine in and momentarily illuminate the darkened room.

Block four

Block four

Block four

Block four…

I trace my steps:

Calm. Step by step

I think I…

Recommendations: Termination block four

Part one: Architecture

Polymembrane, organic speakers and an I.K. translator.

As expected, the organic speakers and I.K. translator are located on opposite sides of the polymembrane.

Each of these components will be treated separately in this analysis.

A key point of attention: The unique way organic speakers are cultivated in block four. The freedom that organic speakers in block four experience is relatively extensive. Organic speakers are normally only paired with the I.K. translator. Organic speakers in block four can pair with each other.

Further research into the profitability of this method is necessary

Organic speakers: Output

The output has been made measurable by the transratio and the number of horizontal signals quantified.

Transratio is the ratio of deaths to births.

Taking into account the [moment of unfolding], the intended transratio for block four is >123%.

Block four currently has a transratio of 113%.

Cause in transratio process investigated. Abnormalities found.

Horizontal signals: made measurable by neurolink.

Fluctuation in values under supervision.

Method: Fluctuations in values indicate horizontal signal.

Abrupt carbohydrate value drop associated with creation of horizontal signal.

Average 2360 – 2980 AD per [time: 0.47 hours] established.

Aspire to be at least equal to organic speakers.

Value block four 89% - 92%.

Cause: mutual coupling of organic speakers.

Mutual coupling detrimentally impacts coupling with the I.K. translator.

Relationship between mutual coupling and faster increase in internal values after creation of a horizontal signal is incorrect

Output block four: Moderate

Organic speakers: Design

Development of organic speakers: Abnormal.

Cause: Mutual coupling.

Abnormality evident from wide diversity in appearance of organic speakers.

Organic speakers have developed a plant-based skin. Discolorations are visible in various sizes. The dominant colour is often dark red with green and purple secondary colours. Lines that run horizontally across the organic speakers are just visible.

Comparable to dendrochronological patterns

At the head of the organic speakers, the body transitions from an I-structure to a V-structure.

Opening of conical V-structure is very frayed.

Point where torso transitions from an I-structure to a V-structure varies.

Circumference of opening V-structure thus highly variable.

Organic speakers vary in locomotion strategies.

Organic speakers with larger circumference show more extreme bending, sometimes dragging motion over ground.

Organic speakers vary in extremities.

Positioning of extremities is wider when circumference is larger.

Egg-shaped legs use cyclic locomotion for movement. Arms missing.

Organic speakers vary in torso.

Twists in torso depend on variations in circumference. Small circumference favourable for twists in torso. Larger circumference, reduced number of twists.

Extreme cases show no twisting.

Analysis of interaction patterns shows aberrations: some smaller circumference individuals imitate locomotion of larger counterparts.

Mutual coupling induces static clusters. Clusters have a snowball effect reducing output.

I gasp for breath.

An engine is turned off.

Silence and darkness unfold in this space.

Somewhere…

There was another way out. I'm sure of it...

It had something to do with...

When I open my phone, I see countless names of strangers.

A.J.B. Aardewerk

P.W. Hoogland

I.A. Faro

D. Ong

B.J. Blanket

S.H.J. Zilverberg

4-12-2024 My desires grow.

Further back. A dialogue...

The light from my phone illuminates the darkened space in an instant.

A.J.B. Aardewerk: 'Today is the 24th of August. I think it's the wrong

day, but the weather is terrible and our cat has just eaten and the dog wants

at least an hour's walk with us.'

P.W. Hoogland: 'The movies I've watched this year are Barbie, Oppenheimer,

Blade Runner, and No Country for Old Man'

I.A. Faro: 'This morning I looked down at the tiles and I saw weeds growing through

the gaps between the tiles towards the sun, and it was very beautiful to

see except for the ants.'

D. Ong: 'We walked forward over the slippery road with two of our nice flip flops

one of which is white and the other is black.'

B.J. Blanket: 'Nothing is as lonely as an empty abandoned city where you can't

see anyone and can't find anyone. What a pity.'

'Nothing is as lonely as an empty...'

S.H.J. Silverberg: 'Sometimes I'm on a racing bike and I'm very happy to cycle towards Culemborg'

The memories this evokes give me a warm feeling.

I look at the time on my phone and see that it's 20:22.

The battery of my phone is almost empty. There is no signal and they will come back at any moment.

I try to think back to the report. Is that really where it began...

My time is running out.

Staring at my phone, I dig deep into my memory. The names on my

phone fill my thoughts. Was I…

A circle with a red dot replaces the names on the screen. The battery of

my phone is empty.

They are still not back.

Through the window opposite me, I see only darkness.

I try to get up. Slowly...

Outside I hear footsteps.

I hear something…

'Tsál ezed nemoktno slegow'

'thcul ni. thcul ni…'

Footsteps…

Through the window I see the light beams of a flashlight.

I see someone with a flashlight walking towards the car. The car door is

opened.

The light from the flashlight momentarily illuminates the darkened space.

Block four.

Block four.

Block four.

Block four…

Back to the beginning.

I need to pull myself together.

It was…

Organic Speakers: Climate Influences

Excessive liquid substances lead to decreased navigability of large areas.

Substance is mostly yellow in colour with additional grey

discoloration, similar to patterns in dried clay, spread across surface.

The substance proves detrimental to the coupling between the Organic Speakers and the I.K. Translator, due to the complications detailed below.

Mobility restrictions:

Physical movement of Organic Speakers is adversely affected by the yellow, liquid substance.

Obstructions intensified and enlarged by increase in residual flora:

Areas around the yellow substance exhibit a proliferation of residual flora. Removal of substance thus further complicated.

Residual flora manifests in various morphologies:

Variation 1:

Floating residual flora, reed-like structures.

Variation 2:

Riparian plants, woody structures.

Variation 3:

Subaquatic residual flora, morphology undefined

Variation 3 of residual flora poses a specific risk to the elimination of the obstruction.

Besides the liquid substance, atmospheric instabilities also have adverse

effects on the overall output.

Fluctuations in air pressure adversely affect the consistency of the horizontal

signal production. Primary influencing factors are dust particles that mobilize in

atmospheric currents, thereby hindering signal creation and physical navigation

further. Irregular creation of dust clouds and their unpredictable movement patterns

complicate operational efficiency. Incidentally, dust clouds can cover large

areas, causing further disruptions.

Weighing down or fixing dust particles is proposed as an intervention to

minimize dust clouds. Additionally, the undesirable residual flora can be made

useful, as a biological anchor to counter particle dispersion.

The current climate conditions within the operational zone of Block Four are

qualified as extremely inefficient. Further strategic adjustments are

necessary to restore operational integrity.

Cold water

The burning light bulb shines a bright light in my face as my head is held up.

'You think you're something.'

'This doesn't look good for you.'

My face is pushed underwater again.

Illuminated by the burning light bulb, I can clearly see the flowing lines in the boards of the wall opposite me. The lines swell around the oval spots where branches once grew. When I close my eyes, it's as if this image has fixed itself in my mind.

Knock

Knock

Knock

I half rise when the silence suddenly penetrates me. I remain frozen in this position.

My breathing feels heavy, and my heart pounds in my throat.

I sit on the edge of the bed to listen carefully if I can hear anything outside.

It's day by now, but I see no one.

I want my phone.

I try to relax by lying down again.

I scratch my head.

I want to be somewhere else.

I close my eyes and imagine an island where I can hear the

soothing sound of breaking waves all around me. The image I see is

blurry.

I suddenly have to vomit.

The sour smell and taste it leaves behind make me dizzy.

What have I started, I think to myself.

It feels like hours have passed since there was a knock at the door.

I can't relax and feel the need to go outside.

I grab the lamp that reminds me of the Pixar intro and throw it through the window.

I hold my face close to where the glass broke and breathe in the fresh air. 

I notice by the air that we are in a wooded area.

'I want my phone!' I shout outside.

The effort makes me cough.I have to laugh at myself as I consider shouting 'I know my rights.'

My hands and feet start to get cold as the fresh air calms me.

'I'll tell you all about the I.K. translator, but I want to know they're okay!'

Silence

'Give me something! I know you're out there!'

In the distance, I hear a dog bark.

I'm startled. As soon as it dawns on me what has just happened, I start screaming as loudly as I can. As I scream, I hear a large door open nearby and the fast-approaching footsteps of two people.

I keep screaming as loudly as I can, and I still hear the dog barking while I am dragged from the window to the bed. It doesn't take long before they cover my mouth. Screaming is now impossible. I stare the man on my right in his eyes and while he uses his hand to cover my mouth, he says something to the man beside him.

'djit si deh'

The man beside him walks outside and opens the car door whose headlights illuminate this space from outside at night. It doesn't take long before he's back. I see that he's holding something and as the man gets closer, it becomes clear that it's a needle. Then I feel a needle in my left thigh.

It was then as if I was back in Block Four. As if I was inspecting the I.K. Translator again and sharing my findings again.

Efficiency regarding processing of horizontal signals is below median. I.K. Translator further contributes to relatively low output of Block Four.

External production 78% compared to median.

Internal production 84% compared to median.

Cause is likely a variation of internal conflicts in I.K. Translator. For problem-solving, extensive dissection of I.K. Translator is crucial. However, this may be unachievable within the set timeframe of 4.8085844e+15 internal time units.

As I shared this information with my client, I felt like I could completely forget my surroundings for a moment. 

At those moments, I only saw the image that formed in my mind before me.

I look past two people at a window through which cold and dry air rushes in. 

The window has four panes that divide the background landscape into small parts.

As I lose the thread of my story here, I come to my senses again as my client asks me to share my findings about the Polymembrane.

Polymembrane excels in transporting horizontal signals between Organic Speakers and I.K. translator.

Signal. 

Looking through the Polymembrane. Flash. Emptiness. A repetition of this event. Flash. Emptiness. Unlike last time, I saw this time. Stagnation.

Expectation.

Stagnation.

Expectation.

'Un taw?'

'Oz snegren nemok ew.'

'Raaw nevjilb ez'

As I lie on my side with my legs still on the ground on the bed, I see through the window that it's dark.

Cold air currents fill the claustrophobic room.

Two headlights shine in and someone scratching their head looks nervously outside. 

On the edge of the bed by my feet sits another person who is tired and leans forward with his hands in his hair. Between me and him lies the needle with which I was injected in my thigh.

I take a deep breath.

In one motion, I sit up, grab the needle, and inject the liquid substance into the neck of the person next to me. The man at the window keeps looking tensely through the window while the howling wind seems to magnify his worries.

Before I know it, I'm putting on their clothes and heading to the car whose headlights shine through the window.

The key is in the ignition.

There's only one road leading through the woods to this cabin so I start the car and follow this road. It's a hollow road and the headlights illuminate the frozen earth thatis the ground for the spruces, which tower above my horizon, and through which the forest is shrouded in darkness.

After about half an hour's drive, the road joins a wider road. I decide to take the turn to the right. As I approach a hairpin bend, I see in my rearview mirror the headlights of a car taking a right turn and entering the road I just came from.

I suddenly think of my phone and the realization that it's too late to pick it up now starts to sink in. 

It’s out of my hands now.

[andyklingensmith]

Archival #11

Autumn 2021

Does dirt taste different with context? Does sand change under your thumb? I could’ve swore the wind sang my favorite melody, knew my birthday, loved my mum

How small is life here and how big nothingness! How I dont have words for any of these things I don’t, I don’t, I don’t Not only for how things are but for how things can be These don’t mean much of anything to me

I look forward See darkness Look upward See light Look down and See nothing Look left and See right

Cahoots with the phantom in wait with the key Not ever presenting less beckoned by thee

So how many miles still to Babylon? It’s threescore miles and ten And can I get there just by candlelight?

Yea, and back again Yea, and back again Yea, and back again Yea, and back again 

.

.

The sun, The candle, The lantern...

I will write it down in fire

and live inside it. And put my fear between it all Away again, where the wind worships me asleep Out there on the porch

Face in the window,

please be my reflection.

.

.

Your heart is the thinker Your brain cools the blood Your hands merely surface to hold dirt and mud

Your eyes are a picture In front is the screen The things that you’re knowing are not what they seem

So too is the tonguing So desperate for taste But in different context A solid is paste

So what is to make of The life that we live When all that remains is what’s left from the sieve

What’s dropped there between the holes in perception Flows out to the ocean in its own direction

Be wary of movement Be wary of “sure” They’re tricks sent from heaven as poison, as lure

.

.

The skeletons even say “Isn’t he thin?” And I stand to reason with flesh they stood in

How can, so undying, a memory fade? Deep wells in my heart Slow deaths in the shade

A community of lions and devils and dirt Whose only sole purpose was contemplate hurt

And champion unwilling Though willing too they seem I’d ask what you were doing but not know what you mean

Some bread left naked My skin without freckle My teeth stand unsharpened My heart knows no courage

.

.

Oh beautiful bridge, I cross you and leave the town and see you stretch in another day against some other crossing Looking the same but different Older yet sometimes new It’s hard to think I recognize you Oh beautiful bridge, I cross you and go into town

.

.

“” It was a beautiful sight

The struggle of carp

To regain their abode

Before the river dried up

To a trickle and trap

There in strange pools of water

You would not need a line

You would not need a hook

You could leave those at home

You would always return

Where no drama repeats

It was a sin to catch them

It was worse to eat them

They are part of the people

Under blankets of nets “”

[tuckersampson]

[zebranovember-blog]

Patrizio della Luna \ a novel by \\ (or, "An Artist's Anatomy") \\\ Metropotamia \\\\ 666,666 words \\\\\ {#Glitcherature} #glitch #glitchart #glitchwave #glitchartcollective #glitchartistscollective #asemic #asemicwriting #asemicart #abstract #abstractwriting #abstractart #conceptual #conceptualwriting #conceptualart #experimental #experimentalwriting #experimentalart https://www.instagram.com/p/B9aXoH3nUHA/?igshid=1e4lwjv774rzn

[purplecurl]

A conversation with a book

Hello dear

My newest acquisition

My sweet friend

You look big and strong and like you have a story to tell

Take me on an adventure in between your marvelous pages

Once upon a time, a girl loved to read. Once upon a time, a girl had an addiction. Once upon a time, she acquired many a book, had to build many a shelf for her many of friends.

Where will you take me, book?

Will you take me to distant verdant isles, with soft citrus breezes?

Will you take me to a dark musty room, pregnant with silence and secrets begging to be told?

Or will you take me to an old man’s room, hunched in front of his desk, writing with his crooked fingers a story that he wants the world to know...?

Wherever you decide to take me, take me with caution lest I get lost in your yellow pages. For lost I will be. Willingly. Every single time.

[scanpoetry]

[lsttcs]

millionaire delivery driver dada, dracula, office happenings, ad new chapbook rechopped up

[bibliobethblog]

I’m currently reading Ali Smith’s seasonal quartet in chime with the seasons and I’m loving experiencing it this way, despite having a few wobbles with Autumn and not understanding what was going on! Sometimes, I don’t feel intelligent enough to discuss Ali’s books in great depth, I just let the words wash over me and try not to worry too much about hidden meaning, nuances or connections between each book in the series. I do think however, that if I read all the books in one gulp, I might pick up a little better the links and purpose of her writing. ⁣ ⁣ Winter follows two older sisters, Sophia and Iris who have very different world and political views and have been estranged for some time. During a family get together at Christmas, Sophia’s son Art arrives at her house with Lux, a girl he has recently paid to be his girlfriend for the holidays. His “real” girlfriend, Charlotte has broken up with him. Lux’s presence ends up bringing Sophia, Iris and Art together, in essence lighting the way to heal their family rift. ⁣ ⁣ Ali Smith’s writing is as always experimental, complex, clever and intriguing. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than you’d first expect and I think if I studied this properly and critically I’d be overwhelmed by what she’s managed to do with language. There’s references to the art of Barbara Hepworth, a disembodied head and so many relevant thoughts and ideas about the world right here, right now. I’m not going to worry too much about what I’ve missed and just enjoy the experience of reading her words with no expectations and no pressure. ⁣ ⁣ Four solid stars 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 ⁣ ⁣ #bookstagram #bookstagramuk #bookreview #bookreviewer #winter #alismith #seasonalquartet #literaryfiction #booksthatintimidateme #readingoutsidemycomfortzone #beautifulbooks #experimentalwriting #booksthatstaywithyou #readingmybacklist https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb4mMOxgQUP/?utm_medium=tumblr

[blackqb-blog]

HOT

we used to Hotwire the cars and then drive them all around the city with a flare in our bodies” theres no feeling like it” its a lonely life but It sure as fuxk beat the office job” I saw fight club and did some mushier with the boys and I said why not make a career out of stealing cars and hot wiring” I watch a lot of Joe rogan and guy Ritchie movies so it was obvious that I was going to do something big” turns out nothing really big ever happened’ I stayed in town and bombarded cid a lot and it was fun for awhile but I didnt really have shit going for myself” I mean look at me I went to school to be a writer and now im not” I work at the flubbing ton post sitting at home trying to fuxk the Youngers at the university” not exactly the best life ever but I could be like that homeless guy that got thrown out of his house by that dj” ok that would be kind of sick to be homeless actually” maybe ill just spark up with me bros”