Sunday, June 21, 2015

H2 Sequence : scalar phasing

{Patient Surrey continues to expand on elaborate hallucinations of dream-like sequences in which he oscillates between guard and investigative roles resolving on the effects of one book that seems to possess a fetishistic attachment for S. Still no word from research as to whether the book [Cyclonopedia] actually exists. He has recently taken to scrawling strange equations on his bedroom walls, which reminded me of one of his earliest reports. [see attached]  I took the liberty of calling in one Dr. ArĂ© Janusc yesterday [a mathematician working on the project upstairs] and his entire lab has since been set to the task of unraveling the arcane spiraling formalisations filling Specialist Surrey's living space.}

Tagged:   Specialist Edwin R. Surrey
                Sun June 21 10:35 PM CST
                Library, Ausman Wing
Patient O-113 continues to cover her container walls with equations.
Effortlessly collapsable, expansive, high-speed differentials fluxing in and out of some symbolic language I have never seen before.
Hurt my eyes looking at it, I can't help but visualize the form she was clearly iterating over and over, even now despite barely grasping the surface of her extraordinarily intimidating calculus.
Torsion and latticing vortexes masquerading as solids dissolving themselves from the inside-out.
Geometry dusted in high-dimensional concatecontortion. Anyway..
With the library next door we have never denied the patients access to the stacks, but they rarely make the effort.
She, on the other hand, is almost never found anywhere else. Extremely quiet, she is otherwise model and compliant, which made this evening's outburst so strange. (silence 17 seconds)
9:20 PM Patient came to the door and pressed the book against the window.
Book entitled: 'Cyclonopedia' opened to title page. Words written under title in pen: "this mirror is dirty. Accept imposition in zerodrome" [here is written in pen above the transcription text 'xerodrome' original text scratched out]
She stared out the window not looking in any direction until I came near enough to read the words, at which point her eyes snapped to mine and she started howling. I took a step back and looked around for a nurse but we were alone, separated by the door. She then began smashing her face into the glass and this is when I hit my panic button and the doctor ran in with sedative. Apparently there was a lot of blood? [*transcription here is marked with a question mark. No information as to whether this was recorded in the presence of another.]

It has been a little over an hour and I still feel nauseous. Like her eyes are looking at me. My skin feels oily. I close my eyes and see the blood pooling up around her and it is crude oil.
Blood comes leaking out of her ruined face and forms hexagonal rivulets in the tilework and my stomach and mind's eye visualize the forms from her wall again. I can't stop seeing them. Am I crazy? She told me she would bring it to my dreams to read, that book. I wonder if they would let me have her copy. It must still be in her room.
[Bottom empty half of page filled with 2 diagrams, 1.1 up-spiral bisected by angled plane 1.2 flat-spiral, terminating orthagonal square-wave echo Words: "To this end, the process of bringing the materials together (orchestration) in the minimum is not of composition but is determined by squeezing, wrapping endlessly, creasing within and over creases, compressing into each other, shoving upward and downward, pressing out from the sides, staging all processes that bring together through the dynamics of forces risen between materials and masses, yield and stress, nonlinear elasticity and flow plasticity: an architectural forge-press. R ]

Thursday, June 4, 2015

second stage:mother/mary

Lean back on the couch, overwhelmed by tightness in the chest. Attempt to lie but down can't move effectively, end up stretched out, poor angle. Twisted :sigh: dismiss burgeoning thoughts of discomfort. Straighten after much effort. Relax.

Look out the window and breathe deep. Clouds grey twisting and swirling. Sweat pours out, hot flash lie back down. Clouds obscure sun, windows go dark.

My face
not my face
every face
my face again
seen from across a room, seen from right beside my face
head cradled in hands of
a woman
a mother
a nun
a nameless nun
a faceless nameless mother/nun

she poured blood in my mouth
my blood
then not my blood
then her blood
then my blood

then the blood poured up out of my mouth into the cup
then the blood became a red silk scarf sliding smooth across my face
not my face
my face
not blood
not my face
my scarf
my blood
her face
not my face
my face
her blood
not my mother
my bloody scarf
my nun
my blood
i heard my heart stop beating
cradled in my hands mary died
cradled in mother's hands I died
a scarf was used to stop the blood
from pouring out of my mouth
i began to cry
thunder clapped
and the clouds broke
and i could hear the plants screaming in exultant fury for the rain.
my heart started up again
thunder clapped