Dear Clumps,
It's me, Clump.
I am not interested in advertisements, I am not interested in a thousand different flashing images, a thousand different shouting matches, a billion different ideas recirculated, regurgitated, and co-opted through whatever color scheme is trending. And no, these thoughts are not original, I don’t need to be original. All I want is to build a world. That’s all. I just want to slog and slop together some parts that have endurance. Parts that won’t crumble at comparison. Parts that evolve, walk out of the goo, stronger and smarter with each millennia.
I want to be useful. And immediately, my brain is trained to internalize the meaning of that word as mechanical. I am a tool, a cog. No, I am an organism. I am cellular. I am miraculously held together by clumps of matter picked up by way of a very long flight through the black eternity. And here I am, being controlled by a bunch of other clumps or the things made by clumps? Yes, Clump, we salute you, we salute the State, we salute the System. No, thank you. I salute the Self.
The usefulness I seek is connectivity. With Self, with You.
It’s hard to know what to say now. So much has already been said. So much I just don’t want to say. So, I’m going to say this: Someday, we’ll all rot. We’ll be scattered into the soil, we’ll become fungus. And those clumps? Let me tell you. They know what’s going on. We’ll learn their language, we’ll talk to the trees. And in a billion years or so, the earth will succumb. And we’ll all float around in blessed blackness again.
Dear Clumps, for now, I want to see. I don’t want to assume. I want to be soft and supple, so we can bounce and merge and change shape as we please. I don’t want to calcify or petrify side by side in a mass formation, categorized and summarized.
What might the goo release today? Another cell, another connection, another piece of me to discover, I hope. I hope the goo is good to you. And if I see you, Clump to Clump, in the flesh or holographically, I look forward to witnessing your shape as it pulses and oscillates, my own shape a reflection in the glossy surface, the membrane holding together its infinite parts.
TEAR DROPS:
💧Reading: The Undiscovered Self by C. G. Jung and You Were Born for This by Chani Nicholas
💧Listening:
💧Baltimore folks, sign up for the Baltimore Rapid Response Network to get coordinated with immigrant, labor, and community organizations.
Love clumps
🫶🫶🫶🫶