turning around changing

experimenting with happening

knowing from trans-ing


out sees/seeps/ seeds in

before re-members after

up rhymes down

flowing as relating

unfolding above desiring

living for met(t)a-ing

aboun orso thwith

neither like nor unlike

beyond then within



joining unto generating

evolving by cleaving

d(well)ing in be(com)ing


of depends on

under looms/weaves over

to drives throughout


of thus to

during while past

since so until


flowing as relaxing

unfolding above designing

emptying for loving


against moves within

opposite comes along

between nfolds beyond


without but about

inside because beside(s)

near if opposite

That Which Is Not Story

What are we left with when we abandon beginning and ending?

just middle
the incommensurable middleness of
ceaseless unfolding

To dwell in the middle is to relinquish the arbitrary compass points that narrative peremptorily establishes.

We don't know what the alternatives to narrative are yet. (Why, they ask, should we give up the familiar pleasures of narrative for the unknown alternarratives?)

The renunciation of story’s desire for destination for the joy of composition—the disinterested enjoyment of storyless conjoining and disjoining—a more ingenious mimesis, participating in the unbounded creativity of nature instead of superstitiously fabricating spectral images of reality. (Narrative mimesis ultimately animated by the fear of reality—an impetus it shares with religion.)

To step out of story into moments of clearing, momently transforming feeling, thinking, being.

To remind the mind that it is more than the stories it is constantly telling itself.

Unfolding in the unstoried, unselfing expands the uncharted space of becoming.

Outside story, the other comes as a friend.




The obsolete heroisms of narrative. (We don’t need another hero—we need new ways of feeling and thinking; new ways of remembering, desiring, making sense; new powers of the body-mind to renew reality.)

The ethics of no-story: instead of the rigid division of subject from object, subjectless and objectless intimacy.

The politics of no-story: instead of stiff, stiffening opposition, fluxuous, flexuous composition.

In the orbit of story, ethics and politics revolve around control. Outside story, ethics and politics curve to the spiraling freedom of unfolding.

The end of narrative is the beginning of writing. (Outside narrative, beginning and ending vanish into writing.)

Released from narrative, can language evoke the signless plenitude of aimlessness instead of obsessively recounting the privations of desire?

What is not-story? That which liberates the body from the image imposed on it by story. Not-story does not, however, propose another image of the body; rather, it contrives to free the body from image altogether. Clearing a space for the event’s unnamable manifoldings, that-which-is-not-story surrenders the body to perpetual astonishment.

Narrative in thrall to the image of desire, to desire for the image. Outside narrative, the liberation of the aimless unimaginable.

Outside the narrative of otherness (narrative’s obsessive story) the other-wiseness of storyless unselfing.