musky releases

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sIxThBiTzErO ✓.

"Whenever its name has been anything but a jest, philosophy has been haunted by a subterranean question: What if knowledge were a means to deepen unknowing? It is this question alone that has differentiated it from the shallow things of the earth. Yet the glory and also the indignity of philosophy is to have sought the end of knowing, and no more." --Nick Land

"I’d draw a spread every morning, three stones, five stones, seven. Sometimes they would read my life, but just as often they would read what I was working on."

in the subfusc before-the-storm
imprecation of sky i taste
there is nothing of Innsmouth. Harlequin,
laugh. Hazards of absinthe,
but nothing of the Old Gods.
What was sunken shall rise, streaming;
what was fallen shall rule.
In the subfusc before-the-storm crisis

i can only think of Innsmouth's absence.

Kimjongiliad.