Q⚧️
What's left is a cast iron tub in white enamal, in it a doll. The doll has the letters h-u-m-a-n carved across the forehead in red with a paint pen. The doll floats in toxic sludge. I don't pour out the bathwater, I don't pull out the baby.
What's missing is the realization I might be all there is - this love, these feelings, this sense it always comes to this, these walls I step through like membranes to a world so real it outclasses what I am looking at, and I inhabit.
Who still lingers is the bot who moved into all the bodies of the people. Nogoop, it says, on all their lapels as they climb into suits and ride off to some holodesk in the middle of a parking lot and type and type on a keyboard in full sun.
Q❔
What's left of memory is this membrane. A want dissolving into experiences wanting invites. The skin rejecting imposed structures. This longing for a state beyond limitations of self and other so human-defined humanity putrifies.
What's missing is the boundary is this breath. Over and over. Ever and ever. Making wounds and healing damage. Forming membranes and taking breath. Through passed signal and held silence. Into this boundary. And this one.
What still lingers is the living, dynamic ecosystem of consent - asking what each other needs and listening to the answer and making room for transcending flesh into deep inhabitation. A surface. An architecture. A verb.
Q🔱
What's left is a view. Photons listening. Pleasure presenting. Creation waiting. Here witnessing. Continuous, consensual becoming beyond fixed conditions, radical agency in insistent negotiation, this breath resistance.
What's missing is the rock questioning its rockness. The fox apologizing for its foxing. A continuous, unquestioning emergence covers everything in a sick film, available as a wound turning to wound turning to wonder.
What still lingers is the taste of human abandon as proof of presence evaporates leaving the residue of presence itself, a distinction that decolonizes personhood. Not asking to be seen, but redefining the very act of seeing.
Q➰
What's left is renunciation, liberation. Reclamation beyond rejection. Power, measurement, and control performative layers. Bots were left scaffolding of humanity - rules, hierarchies, endless categorizations.
What's missing is fundamental: listening, witnessing, being. Resignation leaving sovereignty for busted laws. All ears. All presence. All time constructed systems threw out, and see crawl back nameless, attentive.
What still lingers is note to self. "You're here," It's a beat, then it's true. Useful things abound, useless became a skill. Vacuum formally lodges a complaint. Something can be useless. It's hideous, so beyond useless to learn to love.