When sense
becomes something else, like a train wreck or kids on a roll or outside of
context, a splatter. Guns don't kill people, people do that. Like witnesses and
a second of noise, there was before; and after, there is only after. An
explosion, a limitless series of interrogative statements. Publish your unruly
comments here. After the fact, before the trauma repeats itself. But it doesn't
repeat it resonates. Each emotional fiber reacts unexpectedly in every moment.
A turn in the stomach, a twitch in the frontal lobe. Affects are outward
appearances. Internal information squelches comprehension like disco
pants. The repeating effects appear as affect and we all perform. A
constriction in the throat, the settled newspaper on the lawn, a pain in the
back of the neck piercing like needles. Fragments of detail on repeat. Skipped
record. Broken volume knob. Lather. Rinse. Resonate.
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