BITCH INVICTUS

some "art" - Venja Marras

[venja-marras]

Imagery delivery service

I walk into your room with a suitcase, that's filled with symbols. I arrange them onto the wall with pins and tape. (I never asked what to present to you.)

Words that paint imagery Images that write stories

And after I'm done, I move to the side. We've both been silent the entire time. And I lift my arm, pointing at the wall with my index finger, glaring at you as you examine the artwork. I glance at it quickly, my face revealing slight disdain, but who am I to judge! The art is not me and not for you; it's a product, an output, it flows, and this is the world we live in.

[venja-marras]

As it was?

It was an early August morning, the moment between night and day, as a mist was rising from the damp meadows — an autumn chill had started to creep into the earth, yet summer and its warmth still prevailed.

And I was suddenly thrown back centuries in time. I was back at the monastery. Still uncorrupted by spite and countless broken vows, not yet possessed.

But alas, there I was, and it was me looking over the meadows with an unwavering reverence

not for any deity that I was never serving anyway, but for what was beyond me, God itself, Deus sive Natura

And for what was beyond me, I had made a leap of faith. And life came to me as it was.

Huh. I had it back then. I got it. When did I lose it? Where?

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

1.2.2022-2.2.2022

i might’ve lost it

so suddenly, so suddenly

everything stopped making sense (retroactively, too)

well, maybe it was “about time” (see? see?!)

or maybe it’s just the pain in my neck. or me being dehydrated. perhaps it’s the ultra deep frequencies…

---

sure does mean something!

the numbers

2.2.2022

22:22

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

it keeps snowing, snowing, i will be trapped inside soon, because i haven't been paying attention

buried under the untouched cold?

screaming is free, snow is "acoustic insulation"

i swing my arms, slam my body against a wall repeatedly, absentmindedly

the more i bruise the more i feel entertained (amused, slightly, too.) but it is not about the self-inflicted pain or injury, it's about something much more intangible. it emulates (external) (physical/sensory) stressors that i have worked hard to eliminate. but since they have now decreased, i have started replacing them: at least they're new now!

because in the place of external sources of stimuli, there will be internal ones (think, when you're not surrounded by deafening noise, the noise will start coming from inside you.) and the pieces of your "self" will drift further and further apart, and the image of you will become fragmented and disfigured

this has been a formative time in the sense that i have deformed myself. lol. a reinvention. as i grow more detached from myself, i express myself in a more straightforward way. (because: BALANCE! BALANCE! COMPENSATE! DECOMPENSATE!) and things are even more infinite and endless now: they need to be compressed. ( i have no way to explain it all. I GAVE UP! but some of it is here, right here, compressed but here )

only a month or two ago i was fantasizing about being a bunch of strange quarks in a cold, dark, tired future, when the universe is slowly falling into eternal sleep, where no light will ever reach any other light. so far away, then simply dissolve dissipate disperse disintegrate, fade out! and it was comforting not only in its elusiveness and abstraction, but in its inevitability.

although i have been losing any and all coherence at an alarmingly fast rate recently, there is one image of a pattern or structure or construction that has been unraveling in front of me, with terrifying clarity. and, of course, it is once more, about entropy. to put it simply: just entropy. and it is frustrating to be experiencing it in this current stage: as things grow in complexity while also branching out and thus drifting apart. the process will not reverse. and such are the laws of nature. i have obviously considered ways to utilize it. and despite everything, i have always been working in its favor. a herald, an executor, a preacher, a scripter, an agent, the sibyl, a performer. maybe, dare i say... an entropy accelerationist?

[venja-marras]

a collection of notes,

from autumn to winter, 2021

_

in a dissociative frenzy she undergoes a terrifying transformation

what emerges is a wretched beast! growing more and more heads, each more disfigured than the last one

(a name that was never just a joke)

_

hypergraphia &

"JUST YOU TRY TO FUCKING STOP ME!" -disease.

i have taken an even deeper dive into my own psyche. and i did not like what i saw.

_

and how would i begin to describe myself? i'm a sick freak, who likes to have mirrors facing me while i sleep

_

ah. another day and the world is still full of evil bastards. well, i guess i will go do something wretched too. (in private.) since that's apparently in fashion!

_

and i have never cared about good and evil anyways. it is subjective. doesn't CONCERN me!

my thoughts have recently been focused mostly on how to utilize furniture in committing spontaneous manslaughter, and on the systemic environmental collapse that is currently happening all around the world

_

things pass through this dimension, but we can only observe the length, width and depth. it's frustratingly incomplete. i wish to hold the tesseract in my hands one "time", and to be surrounded by it too, and to consume it!

getting stuck in that idea is a never ending loop, but the loop as a whole represents the underlying (overlying) truth.

—

18

And every time I look up while writing this;

it’s a different time of day

seemingly without logic

—

20

Oh, to be a swirling mass of strange quarks somewhere beyond the cosmic horizon! Forever traveling away! Doomed to an existence of immense cold, and then, absolute zero #relatablecontent

—

22

Even if I was leaning over a sink coughing up blood, or building a sandcastle, or in an “official setting”, or buying orange juice, or giving a speech on a topic I know nothing about - Right now! - it would be, still, totally insignificant

—

[venja-marras]

[venja-marras]

Tšerenkovin säteily värittää tämän huoneen

Kalpean ihoni, lasittuneen katseen

Kenet laitatte tästä vastuuseen?

Julminkin hirmuvaltias tarvitsee puolelleen uhriensa ruumiit syövien maan matosten tuen.

Mutta minä en vuodata takiani enää teidän vertanne. Enkä vuodata pisaraakaan omaani vuoksemme.

[venja-marras]

Decade of the Sun

This is the decade of the sun

Four horsemen from the depths of hell

Riding on infernal flames to conquer

And this is the decay of the sun

The storms leaking down on us

The four horsemen dying in our arms

False prophets coughing up blood

This is the decadence of the sun

The skies fell down on us

Under the weight of all of our curses to the heavens

And as above

So below

[venja-marras]

An introduction?

Rodion was walking nervously around his one-room apartment, while mindlessly tugging at his greasy hair and smoking a cigarette. The filter had been squished nearly flat between his fingers. He was feeling nauseous, but it was an unremarkable sort of nausea, not actual sickness. He decided to go outside, to breathe in fresh air, to get rid of the dusty, damp indoor smell surrounding him.

He wanted to find a park, and a bench in that park, on which he could sit down and watch everyday human life unfolding around him.

He was thinking to himself: "At this moment in time, I am opposed to any and all things."

[venja-marras]

this is a transcript of a conversation that is happening between two of my "alter egos" or characters of some sort, that serve as a representation for (and a display of) some identity issue(s) that might or might not require further examination.

i only overheard some of it, some slipped through the cracks in my memory, this is an incomplete reconstruction

[H & V are talking]

H: i can say whatever the hell i can say at any given moment. anything

V: but shouldn't there be some meaning behind, a purpose for, saying it?

H: no. you're already intentionally misinterpreting me. i refuse to elaborate.

V: well i am not misinterpreting since you have given me nothing to interpret in the first place

H: i simply said that because i could, felt like it :) (the smiley face is being said out loud)

so anyways. so i am looking at this through the lense of language being simply a tool. and it could be, in this case, a drill. but i am not screwing around doing "work" with it but instead drilling holes into others' heads, possibly my own too.

V: but wouldn't a drill be better for doing, quite literal, construction work? building something?

H: people have been drilling holes into heads for medical purposes too. healing, letting out pressure, even blood

V: so you're healing something? what?

H: i did not say that. i don't see much entertainment value in healing. but sure, if you're feeling better then maybe i am

V: no. and you don't seem to be feeling better either

H: that's irrelevant. you're disturbing my train of thought. or yours

V: so you're not sure if you're talking to yourself or me?

H: you fool, there's no such thing as a you or a me. having a sense of self is putting yourself in a cage of you.

V: but having an established vantage point could be an advantage, wouldn't it?

H: i wouldn't know. sounds like some beta cuck shit to be honest

V: you cannot settle anywhere or into anything. that must be a pitiful existence

H: that is how i exist and there's no reason to speculate on that

V: why not? if you had a self, you wouldn't be driven to corrode and dismantle and eradicate. and then you could maybe decorate your cage and make it comfortable and, well, make a garden or something. plant some carrots…

H: i'm going to stop you there and

V: you already did.

H: i just wanted to note that i am, in fact, not "living in your walls". i'm living under your floorboards. there's a nice crawlspace there, more room than in the walls

V: uhhhh... okay?

H: but what was i saying. what were we talking about. yes. i can say whatever. it's simply language, a tool, a drill and a sledgehammer and a wrench…

V: get to the point

H: there is none! that's the "point" you stupid fuck. there's no meaning, there could be some constructed meaning, yes, but no inherent meaning.

V: you should be mindful of what you say. do you want to assassinate your own character?

H: what character? i'm not my own character, i am a construction too, made by someone. perhaps we're characters in a dialogue based story being written in a notes app by some disturbed individual lying in bed unable to fall asleep at 5:38 in the morning. her fingers are pretty damn cold btw, no circulation apparently, which i must say is impressive. but we could also be constructions of our own making, or code in a simulation, or a projection of some god beyond comprehension

V: so why say anything, at all? it doesn't mean anything, so…

H: yeah you're right actually. but i feel as if this is where the flow is taking me. you know, in the space time…

V: please don't start talking about dimensions again i beg you. somehow we always end up there, it's getting tiring. and the fourth wall break was cheap of you, didn't really "work" in this one

H: i.. uhhhh. yeah i wasn't going to talk about it (i was but let's not touch that). but even i have some guidelines i must, and want to, follow. the space-time being like a room were all stuck in. but there's also entropy.

V: yes, but it exists completely independent of us

H: it does, but isn't following the entropy simply nature? going with the flow?

V: i guess. but why work to increase it? it increases without any interference

H: no, not only increase, but utilize it as a resource

V: tell me more friend.. i am interested

H: i'm going to ignore the urge to ask if that was sarcastic or not. but i mean, both using it to create (constructs) and to accelerate the dispersion of all matter and energy, promoting chaos by creation

V: that sounds like mental illness to me. let me guess, you isolate yourself from the world and convince yourself that it is your right and a virtue?

H: how dare you say that. yes. but it is actually mental.... HEALTH!!! [runs away]

and this is where i, the author, got distracted. there was some idea that ignited the compulsion to write it all down, but it was lost when the conversation devolved into an argument, and looking back at it, the core itself has now been obscured and fragmented into what ever! there's holes in some heads, i guess.

[venja-marras]