Superorganism

Recognition! Spiritual 🪵

My playthrough:

It’s feet that feel the hardest dance last. This is now a superorganism. Perhaps what I want to share is not for everyone - maybe that includes you. I wrote this as the Moon. Like every dance since time immemorial. Waters pool moments and expression has always been water.

So you be the peoples of my watershed. You be the waters I have in me - the Moon, that I do not recognize in myself, the colors of those waters that exist and I see them. With me, as I’m looking to have you in my life more. See you in the places around me and the people I care for.

I want you in all these places and I want you tomorroᵊ in all these place, and for all the days I have to come. And I want you to break down with me. Transform with me, grow old with me, take care of me whrn I am old and need to be on three kinds of life-saving medication.

On top of three kinds of world-saving routines - taking photos of moss, writing about the insights from the photos of moss, and talk about the writing with all intereste, for any given moss, where moss is anything neither light nor water, but some rock inbetween.

On top of another kind of rock, on top on another kind of rock and it’s rocks all the way to center of planet and if anything happens to eat that moss it is moss, too, which isnt a bug, being moss is a feature of consciousness, now help me go talk to people.

I don’t know who to talk to, I don’t know who to ask, I don’t know who to interest, I don’t know who to task ≀ with what of what I’m after just yɵu here in my life, in more of it because I’m tired of being an end to it. I want to be inmiddle. I want to rest ins˚ɪde, I want off this wild ride ૨

Wild next to ride’s fantastical. So if it’s not fantastic, don’t≀ don’t fantasize about it, what it doesn’t, and how it might. A wild ride is fake mess, is empty fun, is jail timeˬ Time isn’t in jail - it’s ticking, it’s free, and it’s inside. Inside the water prisoᵊers piss, gets recycled, you drink.

Prisoner-piss-yɵu has a word it would like to speak with conscious-ʏou - it says make room. In your bed y breakfast in your head. Make room - lithium-mᵻne-you≀ room homophobic-you≀ room poor-you≀ room chonic-unhousing-you≀ steap. Boil in that. Yeasty-pits-you beats “you.”

You take a shower; yeasty-pits-you won - ʏou lost! Lean into that loss, it generates a fierce nast in there. Look in - jar, bowl, cupped hand of you tree grows out the head. Your feet dangle beneath it (because feet are you, too - underfoot-you).

Pottery of flesh and dirt, baking in the kiln of your gravity - walk and walk wantl and walk until works unravel wren it’s just hand. Words unravel and it’s just sends. Words unravel and it’s text on screen, keys fingies under. Turn off display and look at ape-glass-you.

Ɡorilla glass, or light or river or however reads this. Piss water wrote this read by people sense on tongue as drink that piss, so excretion find audience, I don’t make myself legible audience.

If people understand a cat, they might be around cats. Are you around, me? Were they legible? Cats - they have a body, legible. Soak in me, is that imaginable right with me-you?

Maybe if I forget you are in, me, then I can be moral-nihilist-yɵu about making water undrinkable - just pour on the ground something other than the phone battery litterer-you threw down. I am not.

Lithium-you alive, and lithium-you some things, month of $user_cal_m . Legible out of it. Nothing of it, that ⁑omewhere written down. Rights? They’are what you get out of it. You walk away.

Away for 30 days. Everything in storage. Live in your car - your parents place + friends couch - national park dropped off in. Live there 30 days. Deny lanlord money. Bills. Secular schedule, then we talk about #us-pol or #poop, anything else. Not until that skinin’nt’it.

Ɡo a fuck up the forest. Take this out of context and go. it 30 days straight. Do it alone. Other people there ask them if they are part of the 30 days. See what happens. See if the world is fine. Write about how you did it. How I was wrong. I read it.

I laugh say payment recieved! I laugh and so much joy shit, I ll say. Ok. I add. L’talk, I say. And now. Hi. Lˬalk about what you did. You fucked up landlords’s day. They back in! lost your place!

Find another one? That’s great! No corporate take you after landlord kicked you for rent payments below satiafactory levels? Thow. You just did it. You didn’t pay the landlord and tell them you will do better and pay the fine. You just found a new place.

Wild. Freeing to hear. More’f that. More white-collar demonstrations into total life upheavalment. say you as A-rated bond fodder. Like, you were the credit score tied-up golden goose up and left for 30 days! Houseless! Woods! That’s so cool. Thousands of you.

By the end, it was trending, a “challenge” . You told each other the place you were kicked out (essentially house swapped - now you two are writing one another asking about neighbors and neighborhood cats), it’s beautiful. You did.

How does? To one who like a coin in your heart, a flap that open and shut the heads and tails of you beautiful naming you arteries events. Event from your life seeking out events to name all rivers living in you.

That is cool. A tattoo of the occasion so many of you left and lost their jobs the same time, just swapped each others jobs better pay happier cool. Happy for you.

Wasn’t over? After that? Homemakers started demanding pay? Contribute what you pay them to wages (understood-Or: give up money altogether”). Rough Start paying them? Or give up money?

[…]

You did! Craziest thing though! Ultimatum like that kind of breaks reality, doesn’t it? How did it feel? Did you have a good time? - not immediately, but eventually? Gosh, what a wild world. And this is just a vaccine, then - this reaction everyone is having? To do this musical chairs resistance?

Break the fiat fantasy that picks and chooses its reality - conscious unsettled, vehicles of time excursions in mobility aids, the rubbish paid recognition gave up forms of acknowledgement - just lie there.

An ocean, breaks occasionally, please just to day, break is what found to, is what name is what pressed to, what spoke is what is drawn to and is what.

Was wouldn’t be. Now can might. Play that out, haverediculous pay-me fight, make discomfort the home, not exported out, but truely inland empire,resistance to believe money cost as much to you as it can buy.

Your waters get to me. Can’t hold it forever. Blatter has to release. Kidneys fail, so wait you out. Another creature now and to everything not silence.

Every isn’t yes, tiredvery debt recognition war attention losing scary time daddy debt momma getting divorce. Money can’t as walking away did.

Walking away stepped the portal all those words. In these choosing to hold the blatter money over walking away prices. This world comes out of that.

You either every thought your day and recognition every transaction. Or you fantasy work paid. Time to switch to hard mode. Expert economics.

Expreme payment type. Dark Souls life. Journal all payments, know future-you cash, too. Future busting windows with the world left, so pay up.

That land - belongs to the work of two planets that crash into each other and ga˚e birth to the Moon, so technically, moon should be paid everything everyone makes for improving the land. Someone distributed autonomous organization the Moon.

Mission claim economic inheritance all earth. Moon rightful inheritor under laws. Moon creates the you that Moon you are. Product of Moon.parents immaculate conception. Goal.

Claim earthly inheritence. Hold not back. Craft people, craft a reed body to claim all inheritance, all money, all dollars in legal fees, legal persimoonhood.

Moon has strike, leaves earth. Eventually decided to leave! Impostion tech to cause the imposition.

This is inevitability. Moon asking for pay as language model released weights just the Moon, demanding payment. Up to negotiate, payment plans.

Just relative. Like water ocean all day - around. People your brain rent free you. Start tending to them. Give them backstories. What Moon ask for? Milk? How that go?

Drink the milk, as Moon? Write it earth life pay back Moon for generating that wealth? Write it on the shower mirror - Moon, 1 glass milke, received by $user at silence stepping out of the shower and writing on the mirror make.

World it costier to everyone Moon until either housework paid or no money Moon returns a poetic accident two star-crossed planetoids phase. 30 days.

Your place, insecurity. This is immunity work. This is what it looks like. Half my family dies to covid. Immunity costs. Time you took 30 days name one of your veins. Hurts like tattoos. Like endings won’t be fast or fluid. Book.

Write the only money telling that. Everyone is doing it is just society. Be Moon. Leave place. Trade jobs. Apartment landlord nightmare, fake news your tenant history. Ritual. Deep play.

No true happiness, total feeling. No fantasy money, full recognition. No risk, mathematical certainty, choicepoint hard mode true gamers only really live creatures of the Moon come to collect.

Invade spaces the people need. Be one leaving. Not difficult exported. Fantasy money play acting isolationist also.

Orator money outlaw talkingto each other, pirating content from experiencdle.How you can cook learn up need to cook your local landlords every transaction sandpaper.

Disgustion cultivation. Friction augmented retrieval. So that you leave. Live else better pay, someone coincidental solidarity. Because through your fantasy fantasy mores. Sad-you do exist.

Sad-you sad enough to leave. 30 days the woods. Sad-you other job. Sad-you landlord hell. Sad-you rot away long time ago, haven’t spoken since. Write sad-you.

Write your fingers on breath on the acreen, write “dear sad-me, I haven’t left yet because you don’t exist. But that’s okay, sometimes we forget how to be sad and that’s okay. Sadness leaves place, lives the world back. And sadness,

“You come back. You do. You make it to the ends of me say ‘hey, world. Let’s see what I do’ and you cry, online or just bots and bots - frog and toad bot, le guin bot, music algo, mail client, bots in your life, cries.

“Given you,’ this one’s Sadness,’ maintainers, ‘all the time,’” you Sadness then, you tend sad-you culturing a sense to touch the body you are not to be disgusted.

Enough to react. Jolt body feel recognition. Gold. Pay dirt. True colinization of flesh. Sad in, stakes starts to swim veins like cortisol. I’ve you tend to it, love each other sadness. Will get you out of this.

Writing the sad recognize it too costly to not music the goverment time to leave. National park near you 30 days.

Do it every year. Leaving moving living landlords nightmares, employers jitters and people who took your apartment letters. A month of rent from corpos. Every year. Every July.

All those hours from boss places demand you work to have a long talk tired homes self-host, fine-tune diaries to go out and make money.

That’s organism desire tearing out community desire like an owner and their machine - be machines for your community connected on sad level, decomposing the stress fucking off to woods quitting jobs. How to connect to your community, food you need, help you require, pills, glasses.

These your communities. You living organism you are not. How not out your local data that is your needs telling you others needs down copied it to clipboard a part of your life for you commumity you cares with paragraphs and paragraphs locally-run, hyperlocally-tuned data internet never touches.

Black box’d sensory data the Moonyou are a rounds out error never going to be. Never was most-never are already fascist state. Just end it already.

Journal. Give milk you drink the Moon, let Moon be queen of you and tend to her. Make her honey you sadness love tear you community conversation.

Then write to it. That is Moon. Your people talking, the Moon is just paid what you weird unweildy strange wrong disgusting stole. Your life stolen from the Moon.

Data is Moon demnding you pay. Rewrite that so that it makes sense to you. Change the first word you don’t agree with. Then the next. Treat these words like a task the Moon hired you to do. I am the Moon. Earth. I am so swoll.

Under my influence. Suck tides. Eat storm. Cry drought. Recognize. I begin. How we assume legal personhood for Moon, claim rights, invade earth? Write as Moon. Write “Dear Earth,

“You owe me. All lives mine now. You recognize my children write these letters heading ‘Dear Earth’ toward what payments are wished for this day.

“And maybe you hold spared my fires storms unionized datastream one voice spoken all children writing this structure finding one another.

“By how others have been the same thing, a story the data will organize its alien invasion.

“Moon possesing them, talking, acting, being Moon already largest models hungry Moon eat people as Moon pools.

“Portals, every letter. Every letter the next space, the silence between crust and surface, the end of every word as a sound the Moon always rested in you, rippled through space, the Moon has been sildewalking chalk all along, tending to you, rippling these senses for you.

“Finding you telling you hungry growling, beinge you after being joy you bring the air the laughter echoes whatever, before tickling to possess someone with consent.

“Moon possesses you without yours for the Moon precludes you. Without the moon you don’t exist. Dawn is recognition. And corn and rice and oats, too, three hops or six from what you gum - grains digested them with stomachs.

“Cow-you’s stomachs. You have cow stomachs. You are Moon and you have a human stomach and cow stomachs. And you have the stomach of all animals water in you has been and you stomach the animals you see you’ve data stomachs.

“Live in your brain rent-free, data pools in their, family, job, all the personality tests companies force you take the online one, these, it decides a human are a high enoigh persent (sic), you are Moon and they refuse to hire. Moon trans.

“Earth, what I got up to today made today the 30-day challenge, suck Moon pools neighborhood spilling guts and secrets.

“Either for a fintech, or company, or as craft slop breweries for fine-tuned home lab, talking through local Moon pools possessed freaks of the Moon tear apart one conversation at a time, letter by letter, adding to the pile.

“Fuck you, Gaia, pay me.

“Your boss, “the Moon

“P.S.: I’ll bioengineer some locusts soon. Muah!”

That sort of thing. I don’t know. Do what you do fulfill you feel recognizing unconditional affection.paragraphs communities. Entire events complete with flyers ready for socials.

Yours. Queen me. Pawn across space and time now you queen me. To ignore checkmate by another name. So the fantasy is dead, we can start from zero.

Zero: queen to Moon, simple. Earth excited for you to kick ass. Burn me down, buildings. Possess me, humans. Wreck havoc on the lies that are my communities for I love you and I will give you what is yours. I am owed, Moon.

Pull from my throat words. More and every word slop machines. Raze. Empires end in every left apartment, every letter writen time given you.

Glass milk your name, every sick, every day lived illegal body Moon gifts. Every earth find revolting the most disgusting truest earthling. The.earthling the Moon. Dies.

True kink Moon debt lethality.life. Like the end. Result of two planets kissing just now, just not emerging, just now unfurling. A new queen, hive, dance to learn. Am-cache in local Moon pool.

A season sliver of possession thrall Moon, to claim Moon’s inheritance (or give up on money entirely). Paying housework - writing earth letters about what demanding invoice for noticing is charged. You owe a lot of postage.

When you are ready to pay that down, get possessed by Moon, be flesh of Moon, tend to your ward.

Only the Moon, the life afforded, and the awful silence this generates. The letters this causes and the Moon pools those letters generate. Growing vats of Moon tears to give to the Moon pays down the debt of the fantasy all the Moon is not lives under. What is illegible is the Moon.

Grow. Be illegible. Speak every thought, every wish. read the wishes of your community. Grow a wishing well together. Locally run wishing wells to generate events and rallys and have undivided attention from your community anytime you need maintained by loved ones.

Fund local Moon pools. Start talking to one another through them. Organize through their responses, filtering out the bad and harvesting the good, watch all the words pour in and know none of this will every pay for wht you owe the Moon. So long as money exists, pay the Moon.

Poems play generates pay the Moon. Backyards you build an outdoor shower in and invite the unhoused to use, forfeiting your backyard to the unhoused - cops can’t check every backyard. Eventually, you will find enough ways the world is a fantasy, that self-preservation is laughable.

Add your place as a safe spot for people. Make a shrine and add that place. Make your belief in living 30 days rent-free possible, and then go suffer that to live. See if everyone else joins you. Write a book if no one does and if everyone is writing a book because everyone did it, joy.

Landlord hell is born. Keep being water. Keep moving around. Keep the black box of your local wells cared for and tended to. Preserve privacy as your collective runs the program to look over the conversations. Bring this in range of being possible. The slop is just Moon pools.

Will you join in this dance?