Infrastructures, Beach & a Porcelain Skin

66
I think that the last line of ketamine was
one too many. Yet I vaguely recall - scraping the remnants of my operating power
- that it was actually the only one today, or
during this week, how could I be even able
to remember, anyway.*
————————
Footnote 1*: This is not a story about
drug addiction. Or romanticization of drug
use (on the contrary, we are incredibly
pragmatic). Or about drugs per se. Drugs
are approached here as an exemplary
substitute for questions relating to means
of production, or better put, ways of keeping the given means in line despite various
disadvantageous circumstances.
Time became confusing in a very organized and systematic fashion. Contradictions included. There are many distinctive
categories at hand to differentiate and be
used to analyze the given inputs, all fitting
into specific categories. Everything was
already pre-defined and carefully stored
in corresponding drawers. Still, all the
elements at play can function as fitting
pieces of a puzzle in any place you decide
to put them. They form a pattern, almost
as a carefully woven tapestry. A horizontal
salon show.*
————————
*Footnote 2: If there is the true precursor
to the current messed-up state of the art
world, it is undoubtedly the medium of
the salon exhibition. The ultimate feast
of consumerism, both in the sense of
distribution and to-your-face showcase of
one’s wealth. Here, our use the term proposes its appropriation and burial deep in
the ground. Lie down and die, you piece of
art historical trash!
Their physicality gives an impression of
softness, smooth, evenly lid skin. Despite
the potential folds performing naturally
with every interaction. These are not
typical baroque folds, even though their
richness would allow for those. Instead,
these folds are referencing a sentiment
of fallen modernist dreams. And you just
can’t experience that softness with your
own fingertips. Their surfaces are rough
and almost painful when you reach out
to them, with your hungry yet exhausted
sight, activating the last brainpower left.
*
One single fraction of a second making an
incision in our collective memory lasting
for generations renewed when the healing

process seems to be reaching its culmination. An explosion. The explosion. The
catastrophic failure of the O-rings seals.
*
A couple of days marking a unique,
unrepeatable experience of connection to
what lies beneath. An asphalt torn from
the otherwise compact fabric of a city,
a seemingly random yet precisely selected
surgical cut into the veins of your street.
*
It takes just a few moments to come.
However, finding the right stimuli for easy
masturbation requires a complex search
through a literally endless repository of
available material. Various forms of decisions need to be taken. Starting from the
original wishful search for ethical porn, yet
the pressure growing inside and all those
paywalls at the end bring you to the usual
pornhub engine.*
————————
*Footnote 3: Even though this segment
might sound conformist regarding the usage of porn, it also explores various forms
of emancipation. It speaks of sex workers
as natural elements of the capitalistic
machine, willingly using their bodies as
means of production. It also addresses
potentiality for porn users, who use it
similarly as they would use a cigarette,
a piece of chocolate, or another episode
of a random YouTube clip, merely to keep
their bodies functional to stay productive
without unnecessary tensions.
*
Sentiment and fuzzy understanding of
history allow for a subjective contextual
interpretation of the depicted urban hub.
You want to experience certainty, yet
without the relevant Wikipedia articles
at hand*, everything stays quite blurry
all that time before you decide to give up
trying and move on.
————————
*Footnote 4: I read this: [Wiki: History of
the United States (1980–1991)], you do
you.
*
This is not you, we are outside of the realm
of shared experiences, yet the forms seem
so familiar. This is a lifetime of work. This
is someone’s legacy. Forgotten. Sustained. Revisited. Reinterpreted. Recontextualized. Lifted up. Appropriated and
reborn. Levitation.*

————————
*Footnote 5: Throwing a head of Columbus - or any random slave owner for that
matter - into a lake might be a reference
here, but a very inadequate and misleading one. This is much more personal,
much more soft and delicate. Le-vi-tation. Not a formative historical rearrangement.
*
That last line of ketamine was one too
many. Or did I misplaced the bags and
took coke instead? I just don’t know anymore.*
————————
*Footnote 6: …maybe it could be a bit
romantic, actually.
*
It is all printed and multiplied. The relevance of time dissipated. Or better put - all
those different time frames, subjectivities,
and fragments of collective remembrance
- gradually synchronized into one smooth
porcelain skin. Time is no more, only
endless reproductions of various surfaces
unified into one whole surface.*
————————
*Footnote 7: Never-ending story. Or
rather: determinism. No matter how hard
you try to find any potentiality of the next
narrative step, you’re being served only
what you already know—the pleasure and
pain of mass reproduction.
Horizontal. The oscillation you might still
feel is but a remnant of something long
gone. The vertical axis brings a sensation
of relief. But they are just frames for the
experience underneath. All are exchangeable, and all are constantly transmuting
into the other. These are projection
screens. For you. For your sensitivity. For
your subjective understanding. For your
personal appreciation. This is your skin.
So embrace it.
————————
**These footnotes are not meant to fulfill
the true sense of their typical role. They
lack the ambition to explain, add references, or context. They instead open
up a dialog within the text itself. They
propose layered reading relevant to the
understanding of the presented work
itself. So meta. Jesus.