my superpowers

Could the sacred, whatever its variants, be a two-sided formation? One
aspect founded in murder and the other in common human genetics?

In my case, the mutations resulted in superpowers. I could no longer
control my body's attraction to metal. Even now merely the thought of
magnetic fields causes me endless pain.

Understanding one's superpowers is the discovery of a circle which, via
both poles, endlessly rejoins itself. Life and death become fused in an
isolated plastic cell, suspended invisibly above the greying traffic.

We mutants have always found ourselves socially ostracized and alienated

by these new characteristics. We have no hold on the others but one
woven of fright and repulsion.

One hears the stories. He is the combinatorial fly-human. He is the
limit of bare existence. His need for fresh air and open space is
stronger than any hatred. If his mind can travel the globe, what
difference does it make if his legs work? His mouth chews a hole in the
word.

But let me tell you, no matter how different, we mutants still gather
omens in the street, just like you.

Homo sapiens into homo spapiens into homo spapiens into homo sapiens
sapiens. Something as immaterial as language, yet earthly, terrestrial,
a new living dead man, a new power, sapiens logodracula. Something as
immaterial as language, yet earthly, terrestrial, a new power, which may

not involve them, manifests itself. Something as immaterial as language,

yet earthly, terrestrial, a new sacred man.

the real

Towards fashion, or what might be called fabric:
integers, irrationals, imaginaries.

Certain features regarded as appearance:
a fitting, making-fit.

For example, X
exists,

lingis
glitters,

and behind appearance,
regression

(withdrawing now)
un-

mapping itself.
An appearance or look,

enunciation as subject
nomadics

where stres- here) irres-
and, of course, 'essence.'

what to remember about your feelings

That it encompasses us. And that it encompasses us. And that it is
called ah me ah me ah me. For you know that you will be. You know that
you'll be gone. That you'll be gathered in at the edges with strong
elastic and sent on your way. That they'll beat your teeth in.

The heavens persuade us that we are embers. This god is the author of my

misfortunes. If you really love me from your heart, my son, obey me.
And chant on, sail on, bear o'er the boundless blue from me to every
ship that sails some of the briny world, some of the liquid-flowing
syllables, the perfume, the faint creaking of the old world; for the sky

o'erarches here, we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet, we feel
the undulating deck beneath our feet, we feel the undulating deck
beneath our feet, we feel the long pulsation, the ebb and flow of
endless motion, the tones of unseen mystery carrying us I know not
whither, yet ever full of faith— If you really love me from your heart,

my son, obey me. And come to me that you may weep; kiss me, and give me

your right hand. But first I wish to wake him. But first I wish to wake
him. But first I wish to wake him. Noble, that ebb. Now therefore, by
meditating the whole night, I have discovered the single path.

This theory is old, old. You shall drive goats from Phelleus, like your
father.

Servant re-enters.
Xystis unseen