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Not a short-term one-bed with exhausting prices that never rest, just waits recurse from the next to the next
The background of infrastructures urges to move into our perspective
Their fragility felt
To the avocado that came from the other side of the planet ‘perfectly ripe just for u’
If this Machine is so clearly bleeding out
Of infinite wealth and endless expansion
Impossible to quit (why would you even want that, they would say)
The truth is that chrono-capitalism is incompatible with crip life
Time crawls through me like a machine eating itself
Between profit and their hollow shell of care
Capital is a time-parasite
Between endless growth and the cracks we survive in
Frictionless desire
But between the price hikes and the quiet despair
I was a body
A body
The horizontal ontology of pain
Bending under its own weight
A world so fast we can’t really exist
Because futures mean to leave us behind
Persisting past being the "problem"
Cultivating spaces that orients us in terms it could never articulate
Time frozen for some
Temporal inequalities
Seeking coziness over efficient profits
As if we give up being rested, just to be consumed
Our time is disposable all the of time
As if liberation could ever arrive from infinite growth
Autonomy
and the narcissistic logics of neoliberalism
Belonging is at the edge of its collapse
When there’s nothing left but slow afternoons to live in
The pace of life splintered like glass
Shattering ableist complacency
Stillness
Stretching like light upon light
- the clouds feeling cozyyyyyy for once

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