Alex Ressel

The vegetarian, non-smoking, tee-total farmer had only visited a hos-pital once in her life, outliving her husband by 57 years, and two of her five children. The cause of her death

is unknown.

De Jesus had five children, 11 grand-children, 16 great-grandchildren and six great-great-grandchildren. Due to sight and hearing problems, she could not recognize her family.

She never went to school, and couldn’t write. She became the world’s oldest person after the No-vember 26 death of Edna Parker, who was 115 years and 220 days old.

Her position as the world’s oldest person has now been taken by Ger-

trude Baines, 114.

Week 1 5.03am 4.1.9

Don’t live and still die.After watching years and friends fly passed. Collapsinginto the sea you never saw,because you just never wanted to.

4.12 4.1.9

After all, as you know well, man is a flux of states of consciousness, a flow of passing thoughts, each thought of self another self, a myriad thoughts, a myriad selves, a continual becoming but never being, a will-of-the-wisp flitting of ghosts in ghostland...

-Jack London

Maria de Jesus died on 2.1.2009 , at 115 years and 114 days old.

0-BIT

I’m low.I know that you love me.

I’m low.You don’t have you tell me that.

I’m low.You’ll always be there for me.

I’m low.Where are you?

Below.Oh.

3.48 24.10.8

And the life ring on the end of this thing never stooda chance of reeling anyone in danger in.

And who tied this disgusting decaying placentaof a time of life? I can say confidently not me

nor fate. My suspicion dwells on rhyme & reason themselves, those meddlesome, meddlesome,

meddlesome bells. Pealing from the towers of our urban hells.

*Is there a name for the rope used to ring bells in church towers? because they’re knotted too. Probably worse

than my fleshy twine, but of such anenormous magnitude that one doesn’t

(k)notice it’s labyrinth for quite some time and eventhen, at first you put it down to your mind’s own

confabulation. And when you take it apon yourself to take notice, your screams come out as rhythmic

peals, resounding and resonating across the city,you have reached the pinnacle of this whole mess,

the top of the knot and broadcast its atonal insanityas best you can, and oh! how you can, and oh!

how no one else takes heed, but it does achievesomething, it resonates them to the point that

they tie in knots. they tie themselves in knots.

12.01 19.12.8

My life is a rope line made of twisted and fraying flexes of skin. Tied in a knot without name (or reason).

A motiveless complexity that flaunts its impossibilityto everyone but Alexander/the armed/the bladed/the cutted.

11.45 19.12.8

A natural, most natural predisposition towards chaos.Like the string will entangle itself alone and every single snowflake is different, makes it hard for some people to live. For most however, itsthe hard is a impossible to overcome transmass;of the violence, & idiot’s greed.

19.16 22.12.8 Hide with me in this doorway. Away from the nightmares of our grandparents.

Of cartoon nuclear apocalypses and a red invasionThese crowding crowning crowing doorways.

Will protect us. Our shadows at least can witness a nuclear post-future.

And our grandparents at last can sleep easy In their lead-lined retirement homes.

And how subtle these changes seem when viewed through the corridor, But how protective the liminal will be when smothering us gently in a doorway.

19.00 20.12.8

I can see your fake plastic cup of tea,

And I’m still jeal-ous of it. I know it’s tasteless and dull

But still all I want to do, is drink that stinking shit.

1.22 19.12.8

...But this, man will not accept of himself. He refuses to accept his own passing. He will not pass. He will live again if he has to die to do it.

I’m low.I know that you love me.

I’m low.You don’t have you tell me that.

I’m low.You’ll always be there for me.

I’m low.Where are you?

Below.Oh.

3.48 24.10.8

As these darkened shaded formspass by the window

I’m buffeted at every bend,In response to these incandescent silhouettes.

Every jarring bump does not belong in this world.Only the purr of the engine,

The water drops on the windows,And the smooth lights.We pass each other by,

And your body was near mine.For a split second.

18.46 26.10.8

I feel numbed.Deadened in the senses.

Living a day in someone else’s shoesIs worse than I expected.

8.13 21.11.8

Another day in someone else’s mind.This time in my bed, not my kitchen.

Another perverse dissassociationof heart, sex, hatred & time.

18.15 8.12.8

Tit for tat,We can’t live ThroughThis and that.One win one lossA little order in the chaos.One more pebble thrownIn the sea and,The tide rises imperceptibly.

Through friends addicted to sex,Wine, or anaesthetics we,Shot at, and fallingAt each others feet,Solider on, shoulder to shoulder,Breast to breast.Towards an unseen horizon.Waving goodbye to secrets,To innocence, to ideals.To loneliness.16.53 24.12.8

secateur ceasarians, castrations and

suicides...

RAULF IS A RATHER SECRETIVE SAD YOUNG MAN WITH HAND ME DOWN CLOTHING AND NOT MUCH TO SAY TO ANYONE. THIS LACK OF OUTPUT MAKES HIS DREAMS EXCEPTIONALLY VIVID AND REALISTIC.

Raulf is woken by his hand knocking over the glass of water by his bed, and instantly tucks his cold feet back under the duvet, and then brings his head and body down, curling up under the blanket.

WAKE UP WHEN;

NUMBER ?.... 15.45

In a daze Raulf agrees, he’s struck by being in an old school-yard acquaintances house 18 years on. Memories of online video cecateur ceasarians, cas-trations and suicides. Young kids being shot in the head for no reason at all and pure liquid vita-min C. It’s not like he can afford the house anyway. To exist within it for a few more hours, maybe over night if he’s lucky, before the credit check returns its less than hilarious results, will be enough to ex-plore this rather obscure recess of his memory.

15.45 6.1.9

He is walking to a party in old boots he doesn’t normally wear anymore, they’re bat-tered, full of holes, a little too tight, but still look cool, he has mixed feelings about them.He is buying a house where he used to live as a child, still in the same boots. A nosey old couple are trying to look through the windows and doors, they’re interested in buying it too apparently.

“So, Do you want to buy it?”

NIGHT TIME SHOT OF RAULF CURLED UP ON A SOFA IN A CORNER OF THE HOUSE IN A SILENT CLOSED-MOUTH SCREAM. NAILS OF ONE HAND SCRAP-ING AND CATCHING AGAINST THE GAPS IN THE FLOORBOARDS REPEATEDLY.

Raulf remembers that the old couple outside were ac-tually parents of another child at the school, a child who had disappeared, a child who looked remark-ably similar to the one in the videos shown him here.A child who could quite easily of grown up into the man who was standing in the room looking at Raulf right now.

Raulf: Oh, it is you.

My body is decaying at the edges. I’m told that’show madness starts. And after the end of the worldI hope I’ll be around to see my own illustrious part in the endgame.

10.43 19.12.8

Jump one from one paradigm to another and justify your existence in each one. Inspirational paradigm shifting segways empow-ering your flitting. just stay clear of my paradigm or neither of us will win.

4.55 4.1.9

I lost my friend in the woodland.So

I’m going to cut downAll the trees in London

20.44 2.1.9

Thank you for reading.