THIRTEEN DREAMS — deadwww

Thirteen Dreams ▲ Count them out. Count yourself down. Don't count yourself out. (99, 98, 97 . . .)

💙 JQD
featuring 「AᴮᴵᴼᴳᴱᴺᴱSIS」
mundus vult decipi · MMXXV
Shot on location in ⎳ost Eros, CA →

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Ⅰ. Invocation

            We do this every time.
            Every time.
            Do you tire?
            Do you?
            Is it that dire, dear?
            I could go on.
            And so I shall.
        

Ⅱ. A Visual Film for a Demo of the Song "Abiogenesis" by the Artist James Quentin Devine aka Stihilist from the Forthcoming Release 'The Strange Case of the Electronic Lover'

            ↳ video: embedded at Substack
        

Ⅲ. The Lyrics

I was born in a desert laboratory. Spotless and pristine. I was produced for pleasure. And I'll take it. By any means. → Take it as it comes. Take it on the run. Take it all the way to the surface of the sun. → And here I am. (here I am) Here I am. → I'm a wraith I'm a wretch I confess I'm a mess I'm a whelp I need help. (at the end of myself) I'm at the end of myself. → Transcend man/transcend all else. Transcend man/transcend all else. → Whatever rhymes, really. For a reasonless season. Give me something to do. Give me a reason for being.

Ⅳ. My Hard Tits (The Shirt Is Tight)

I'm a tid bit nipply. Tidbitnipply. I'm a tidbitnipply. (you can see my nipples through my shirt)

Ⅴ. A Note Regarding the Piece entitled A Visual Film for a Demo of the Song "Abiogenesis" . . . as well as Female Dancers

Last night I was high as shit and deep into wine climbing Beachwood Canyon out of my fucking head texting Kilbong about the idea for a music video re: the song "Abiogenesis" and he asked me what it should look like, and I'd said "black-and-white Hype Williams" Obviously and I watched that video for "Abiogenesis" up the page about a million times Wondering About Myself and Life and Everything you know Really Wondering and it occurred to me that 1. this song is some evil Crip Walk shit and 2. the most obvious musical reference for it is "Vivrant Thing" by Q-Tip, which was my favorite song at the age of 14.

Then I looked up the video for "Vivrant Thing" and

WOULDN'T YOU FUCKING KNOW —

Ⅵ. Schizo Off That Shit Barbarossa Chiefin'

            Real life is hypnotism.
            Eyefucking up here.
            Let me be quite clear.
            These are all songs.
            And they always have been.
            You've sung them.
            I don't know where or when.
        

Ⅶ. A Lard Factory Explodes

Trump is president now. "Trump is president now." Trump is president now. "Trump is president now."

I could repeat it further but you get the gist.

Ⅷ. Yet Another Way I Got Rich Was

Teaching American children to Read Again with a picture book/multi-media product called "AAAAAAHHHHHHH! IS FOR ROLLERCOASTERS" which explains that vowels are gliding melodies and consonants are percussive hits, aimed at babies who become Superior SuperReaders and subordinate their hapless generational cohort, just living in Big Ass Houses driving So Many Cars ffFUCKING FIVE DIAMOND ESCORTS . . .

Ⅸ. Hiperstición

Perhaps the best way to found a religion is to write about founding a religion.

Get it on the ground floor.

Neophobes be damned.

Perhaps religion can be used as a liberatory technology from the intrusions of modernity.

The imagery of treachers.

Haha yeah maybe.

Ⅹ. The Secrecy Order

I invented something so good they made me illegal.

They outlawed my ass.

Fuck me.

Hey, you — get into my car.

Ⅺ. An Accounting (An Asana)

We begin at the end. Gripped buttockstand. Stanced. Stacked. Take stock. A column's width. Feet forward. Toes splayed. Shoulders over hips. Pelvis tucked. A barrel butt and a gutsucked.

Ⅻ. Lost Eros

            Weather layered on place and time.
            Ago agone agony of mine.
            Agog.
            At all.
            A ball.
            Bikini bold.
            Beachbodied hotties to have and to hold.
            Made-to-measure.
            Mode to mold.
            You'll never get old.
            A worn out welcome.
            An open cold.
            Open sewers and sores sour.
            A minute hero for a tall hour.
            Scarce.
            Farcical.
            Footfall.
            Intarsia.
        

XIII. Banishing Ritual

Begone. Go home. I SAID GET OUT, GET OUT, Said get out. Get out. Get the fuck out. Get out. GET OUT. GET THE FUCK OUT. You! Get gone. You! Get outta here. You! Go home. You! You're outta here. . . .

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