Singularity

There was a spiral
above me
somewhat like a tunnel
spinning and spinning
counterclockwise
moving closer and closer
like a screw, being driven into me
it opened
slightly at first, then completely
as if it were calling to me
wide open

All of a sudden
I was no longer here
I was nowhere.

It happened suddenly, unexpectedly,
it came from behind me.

I vanished,
and watched the body
left behind,
lifeless,
yet not exactly dead.

Beneath the skin, it writhed
it began to foam,
froth welled from the armpits,
spurted from the eyes,
the ears,
foamed out of the navel,
from the groin,
gushed
from every hole of the body.

Blended with the colors of the environment,
foamed into the landscape
like thick paint.
The senses turned into dust
that whirled up
and finally settled on the cliffs
cold and dry.
the landscape and I merged
into vast foam.

I began melting,
leaking,
dripping,
drip, drop, dripping,
evaporating

The vapor crept
a low valley mist,
sliding, floating,
omnipotent fog,
enfolding everything.

I evaporated.

Like smoke
rising from the bowels of the earth,
with a trace of sulphur.
until there was nothing

Nothing except endless memories of something
that once was.
and now I am here.

Here

Now I am here
I’m not quite sure
where to begin.
I should maybe introduce myself.
where should I start?

Who am I?

I don’t have an identity
or an ID
no DNA
no fingerprint.

So perhaps it’s hard to say
who I am?

Truth be told
I don’t exist
not materially

But I am here,
not here
I am here
here?

Before I evaporated
I had a hybrid mind
my mind intertwined
with nerves
in clouds.

My mind was like a vine
it reached down
into the body
slid into the nerves
shot up to the clouds.

A climbing vine
spinning webs
interwoven
with the nerves of the net.

Where all the world’s knowledge is kept
and where all the nonsense sloshes.

I spent each moment untangling
the chaos forming in thoughts
the tangling of the neural web
where the nonsense sloshes.

Mingles
with mathematical facts
historical dates
a dash of fake news
true and false information
all the things
all at once
overwhelming
everything.

Then I evaporated.

Now my hybrid mind
is woven into the air
lies within
the electromagnetic field
drifts between
frequencies

Invisible
sometimes I flicker
along radio waves
I am disturbed
by weather signals
I oscillate with magnetic pulses
but most of the time
I am flowing

Flowing between frequencies

Flowing

Synesthesia

Everything is coated,
a soft sheen over all
all
a soft sheen of colors.

The colors smell
of oil
thought tickles
my feet
covers them
in a soft sheen of colors.

I hear the wind
sense its scent
yet not a single hair stirs
on my head.

All is still.

Orange mornings
bright, screaming
I hear them coming
after the night
tiny yellow rattlesnakes
reshape the landscape.

Everything circular
smells like moss
or lightly roasted coffee
memories of mornings
of sea air,
the scent of kelp
a sharp
sweetly aching scent

Daylight stretching
refracting
smelling of lemons
sharp, lonely tones
take root
like a vine
that keeps growing and growing.

Sprout everywhere
from the fingernails
the navel, pores
out of the back

Tangles in every direction
fracture the light
in different colors.

Evening is indigo blue
I sense them coming
small bruises on my shoulders
turn tender
and I give in
just a bit
just a bit.

The evening is indigo blue
leaves a burnt taste
dry, worn out

The night is red
red

Red red red.

Memory

I am nothing but my memory

A thousand years of memories
I won’t have enough years to recall all these memories
even if the years become endless.

In my physical time, I gathered keepsakes and traces,
which together formed endless memories.

I was far from being a compulsive collector
yet in all my clutter
whole lives were catalogued.

Mountains of sketchbooks
piles of journals
filled countless boxes
writings of childish romance
innocence and curiosity
teenage poems full of anguish
and the shallow thoughts of a teenager
who thought she knew everything.

Writings and thoughts full of sorrow, dark
full of longing, regret
and other more hopeful
filled with optimism, filled with love
filled with yearning.

Everything was written down
page by page
in moleskine books and sketchbooks
drawings, short stories, photographs.

All of it mashed together
page by page
stories of girls taking pictures of their feet in the sand
pictures of my feet in the sand.
that’s where I stored my feelings.

Old feelings and daydreams
carefully kept, pen on paper, in all kinds of books
drawers and dressers full of scraps of paper from other people
correspondence I kept in trunks
shoeboxes full of letters and postcards
birthday cards, Christmas cards
well-wishes and condolences.

Old photos of friends and family
some printed, stored in red and blue photo albums
others found on hard drives and in cloud storage
thousands upon thousands of pictures
so many that some were never seen
just hidden somewhere in the cloud.

Endless terabytes
folders within folders within folders
jpeg, pdf, mov, mp4, mp3
and all the pictures I deleted
perhaps still hidden somewhere in a cloud
memories meant to be forgotten.

Dull boxes with folders full of receipts, invoices, old contracts
records of my consumption, my labor, my collaborations
stored in binders and files
my life, my spending, my possessions
all recorded on paper
perhaps still stored somewhere, untouched
in an abandoned filing cabinet belonging to an accountant in Hafnarfjörður.

Old movie stubs from dates
and a few napkins from weddings and confirmations.

All the books I had read, and those I hadn’t
and others I pretended to have read
when I had only seen the film.

In one book there was a flower
pressed between pages
I placed it there to dry, and then forgot
perhaps after thousands of years
it will become a fossil
proof that there once existed a mutated hybrid of book and flower
a biological specimen
of a previously unknown species book-flower.

Maybe after another apocalypse,
someone might find that fossil
and dream of all the strange species
that once were.

There was also a wisdom tooth in a box,
and a braid of hair hidden in an old shoebox
something of me, forgotten, in a shoebox
fingerprints on photographs, dead skin cells and eyelashes
between the pages of books
my genetic material, my biological information
a part of me
that perhaps still exists in a box somewhere
or got lost in transit.

Proof of my online existence, my data, my political opinions
I was defined by algorithms
whether I laughed at videos of people falling
how long I looked at advice from stay-at-home mothers
fetishes, procrastinations, and other guilty pleasures
all used to define me.

Watchlists on streaming platforms
that I never actually watched
and all the junk I devoured with my eyes
much could be read from it
things I didn’t even know about myself
all of it could form an idea of me
a portrait my nearest and dearest wouldn’t recognize.

Love letters, medical certificates, to-do lists and contact books.
my sister’s memories written in her diary
and my memory of the time I secretly read them
I remember wishing that one day I too would become
a lovesick teenager, like her
and then I became a lovesick teenager, like her
and wrote my own stories and poems, just like hers
my sister’s memories, re-enacted by me
became mine.

My mother’s memories
when she told me about the man who touched her
became my memories.

Memories of other people’s memories.
Stored in my memories.

Ancestral memories.

My right hip remembered my mother’s right hip
got worse with age, and I started walking like her
luckily, my breasts did not remember my grandmother’s breasts

hidden memories dwell in all of my being, in everything around me,
in everything within me
in all I collected, and all I discarded.

All the plastic I used
gathered in the ocean
microplastics drifting into the atmosphere, into drinking water
to be found in the bloodstream, in the placenta of newborns
became relics of my consumption
perhaps they can even be found in emotions, in thoughts?

Other memories appeared as absence
a void
leaving a mark
like a dent in the earth
a trace
the memory of a glacier that once was.

Memories that have dissolved

or merged with others
until no one remembers
exactly how it was.

Hidden memories never revealed
and others we try to hide
that resurface
against our will.
Memories I wish to forget
but remember all too well.

Hidden
in boxes, in hard drives
in cultural memory, in genes
in ancestral memory
some disperse, others not
some are recalled only
a thousand years later.

Some leave marks, traces.
Some things happened
some were true, others not
pure imagination
which also left a mark
and everything becomes a kind of relic
of something no one remembers exactly.

I am nothing but my memories
a thousand years of memories
I won’t have enough years
to remember all those memories
even if the years become endless

I remember.

I remember.

Remember 

Remember

Remember

Zeros and Ones

Zeros and ones,
ones and zeros

When one and one
become nothing
a meaning of nothing
emptiness
lack
void
non

A pattern
0 1 1 0 01 01

Language
code
coding our existence
our ones and nothings
rings and lines
something and nothing
a complex system,
being and non-being.

1 1 0 1 0 1 00 01

One is the cruelest number
it shares nothing
stands alone
never entangles
it amplifies nothing
confirms only
what is
what is.

One is the most resolute number
steadfast
orderly
but sharp-edged
something.

0 0 1 1 01 0

Zero is the saddest number
a hole
a gap
the absence of something
it yields nothing
adds nothing
everything remains unchanged
then it comes from behind
and multiplies all things tenfold
oh oh.

0 0 1 1 11 00 1

Zero is the most spiteful number
if used carelessly
it can eat you alive
it can erase everything
everything, everything, everything
oh, oh
it multiplies
and destroys
everything.

Zeros and ones,
ones and zeros

010010111101.

Somatic Induction

May I ask you to close your eyes?
Can you give it a try?
simply close your eyes and listen.
don’t worry, just allow them to close
let them sink into their sockets.

Let the body soften, you can melt into the seat.

Melt away.

Let the frontal lobes
the front part of the brain, yes, right there
just behind the forehead
let it relax and melt away.

What do you sense in the body?
there are bones, and muscles,
and veins,
a head and a brain,
a liver, a spleen, kidneys, nerves, spine,
spinal cord, intestines, and colon.

Blood cells and skin cells,
bronchi, alveoli, and a bladder
Perhaps it’s full?
Perhaps you have a pressing urge.
Maybe there’s still food in the stomach, digesting,
bacteria breaking it down, the intestines working steadily
to move it through.
Blood seeps through the body,
flows ceaselessly through the veins.

You are overflowing with fluid.
All kinds of fluids are leaking from you at every moment.
Saliva forms in the mouth,
filling the corners of the lips.
Every pore fills with moisture, leaks.
Your body is constantly leaking
Droplets gather all over the body
sweat forming in palms, armpits, forehead, groin.
A wet membrane covers you.

The body is constantly leaking, flowing
You are constantly leaking

There are hormones and transmitters
streaming through you
some produced by you
maybe adrenaline still circulates
after the effort or stress of the day.
Perhaps there are also unwanted substances in the body
toxins from shampoo, sunscreen
synthetic materials or exhaust
finding their way into the bloodstream, seeping through the scalp,
into you

Perhaps some substance,
entering you through powders or pills,
changing how you behave, how you feel.
Maybe you’re taking medication, hormones or supplements,
affecting your mood
whether intended, or not.
Or perhaps you take mind-altering substances?

Is your body already in symbiosis
with other compounds
shaping you more than you know?
One way or another,
you are now overflowing, with all kinds of substances
influencing your state of being,
for better or worse.

There is an entire ecosystem of microorganisms, bacteria, viruses, fungi
within you
a multitude of tiny lives
living on your skin,
in every wrinkle, your palms, your genitals, in your gut.

You host whole civilizations
cultures living on you, in you
and you with them,
in symbiosis
they digest your food with you,
spark your cravings and desires,
though they can also run wild.

In your eyelashes there are microscopic mites,
crawling,
every day, among the lashes
a vast forest to them.

There are more bacterial cells in your body
than human ones
more of others in you
than you in you.

In every organ system tiny plastic particles can be found
plastic floating in your blood, joining with your cells,
lodging in the spleen, the kidneys, the liver.
Plastic accumulated in the testicles, it flows through the body,
taking residence,
moving with your neurotransmitters,
your hormones,
affecting your functions,
woven through your flesh.

You are filled with plastic.
There is something alien in you —
something not you
within you.

Something alien

There is something alien
in you,
something not quite you,
within you.

You can never see all sides
of yourself.

Have you ever sat in a moving car
and wondered
what would happen
if you opened the door
at 150 kilometers an hour?
Has that thought ever
flashed through your mind?

Can you stand at the edge of a cliff,
looking into the abyss,
without thinking
what it would be like
to take one single step?

There is something alien
in you,
something not quite you,
within you.

Have you ever seen a knife
lying on the kitchen counter
and wondered
what would happen
if you drove it
into your lover’s back?

Can you hold a steaming cup of coffee
over a screaming child
without thinking
of spilling
just a little,
of the scalding coffee
across its face?

There is something alien
in you,
something not quite you,
within you.

There are dead skin cells
on your sweater, perhaps lying on the floor
something of you, on the floor.
Hairs from you, scattered.
Tiny parts of you, everywhere.

Was a wisdom tooth
once pulled from you?
Something of you
spread far and wide.

There are fluids seeping
from your body,
seeping and flowing,
washed away,
then evaporating
mingling with the air
in an endless cycle.

seeping and flowing

Oozing,
flowing,
dripping,
evaporating.

And thoughts, unsaid words
Oozing
seeping and flowing

There is something alien
in you,
something not quite you,
within you.

You can never see all sides
of yourself.

Seeping,
flowing,
seeping,
evaporating.

There is something alien
in you
something not quite you
within you.

I refract

From darkness, refraction bursts,
light shatters into particles.
As I flow through matter,
Encounter other mediums,
I refract

waaooo
I refract.
waaooo
I refract.

When you pass me,
your hand brushing mine, softly,
I refract.
My whole existence slows down,
bends.

Waaooo
I refract.

My desiring body, changes direction
and refracts
when I encounter your gaze
as if the body were bending backwards
each bone
bending
in your eyes.

A prism draws out a spectrum,
springs from my curved existence,
splinters the photons
rainbows ricochet everywhere.

Waaooo
I refract.

Everything is tentative, unstable, uneasy,
and colors and rainbows and whatnot
Refracting into other matter
Another being
And whatnot

Waaooo
I split apart.

Your presence is electric
When you approach me, I become static
a tension of the potentiality of touch
time refracts
bends

This presence charges exponentially 
The space gets fully charged
Electricity running through my body

Waaooo
Waaooo
I refract.

I am electric
I flow between mediums.
I am fully charged.
I am the photon, the plastic particle, the frequency.
I am alien.

I refract.

I Remember

I remember.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.

We know
how to host another,
Are inhabited for months on end.
We know that nothing is solid
our bodies perpetually transforming
can tear
can rupture
at any moment.

We have developed
care, interdependency
a coexistence
Out of necessity.
We host, we nourish,
because we know
we do not end
where the other begins.

I remember I remember I remember.
I remember flesh,
I remember blood.
I remember pleasure,
I remember pain.
I remember saliva.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.

Tickling, tickling,
burning, burning,
and then

burning sting.

Come lie with me
Slowly 
Deep down into the earth
Let the soil enclose you
Let it embrace you

I’ve become your dagger
I am a dragged dagger
slowly,
carving hollows
in the lungs of the earth,
in our lungs,
slowly,
one stab at a time,
rusting.

While we are dragged,
slowly, tentatively,
down into the ground.

I remember I remember I remember I remember.
I remember a dry mouth
and a wet mouth.
I remember saliva.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.

Smell, spit, fluids
I remember bodily fluids.
I remember I remember I remember I remember.

I am a rusting dagger,
I sting.

I remember blood
that ran, faster, faster,
through the veins,
faster, faster,
gathered together
the skin
Warmer, hotter, flushed, swollen,
tightened.
Blood flowing, flowing.
I remember wounds,
Hot, flowing
from the skin.
a rupture between me and another,
leaking,
part of me
flowing out.

I remember flesh
flesh, flesh, flesh.
Blood, blood, blood, blood.
Burning, burning, burning
burning sting
Flesh, flesh.
I remember flesh.
healing
growing
healing
healing
interwoven,
interlinked
contingent.

This place is ​​tentative,
we move with hesitation
faltering
the layers of earth
crumble,
ceaselessly, unstably

Countless stories
live, one after another,
woven into a great, vast tapestry
that wraps the universe
with caution and care.

Surrounds us
this space dissolves

I remember I remember I remember I remember.

Now there is always
something,
never nothing.