En-crip-ing Time

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There’s autonomy in being vulnerable
In interdependence
The background of infrastructures urges to move into our perspective
How dare you call us broken, useless, incompatible to Greatness
Of infinite wealth and endless expansion
Impossible to quit (why would you even want that, they would say)
Conforming life from everything and everyone
Time crawls through me like a machine eating itself
Between profit and their hollow shell of care
Burning something you can't hold
Capital is a time-parasite
Chronophagy
Between the fragile infrastructures and the cold indifference
Frictionless desire
Between the rush and the endless hunger
Histories like wounds are stitched in time
Like trails and paths over bodies
But between the price hikes and the quiet despair
I was a body
A body
Bending under its own weight
What we call survival is actually a moment when
When chrono's clock forgets to tick
Persisting past being the "problem"
Co-existing in our own crip times
Cultivating spaces that orients us in terms it could never articulate
Time frozen for some
Can we imagine futures of superfluous care, with a excesses of crips
Seeking coziness over efficient profits
As if we give up being rested, just to be consumed
Our time is disposable all the of time
When there’s nothing left but slow afternoons to live in
The pace of life splintered like glass
Stretching like light upon light
Over a crip horizon
- the clouds feeling cozyyyyyy for once

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