The writing behind the film
Censorship is the tool of those who have the need to hide actualities from themselves and from others. Their fear is only their inability to face what is real. They are appallingly sad human beings. Somewhere in their upbringing, they were shielded from the basic facts of existence.
Charles Bukowski
When you’re starving, even poison tastes good
The Doppelgangers imaginary power and resonance
is dependent on the level of estrangement
from yourself and intimacy.
Your Phantasy Of Success Is Mine
The Doppelganger is, and remains, a phantasy
but the strength of such copies of yourself
is lost as soon as any attempt is made
to force phantasy into coherent reality
The same is true for visual seduction
When People Recognise You In The Street
Discernment has a doppelgänger
and her name is revelation
When your hand shakes
It is not palsy or drugs.
It is your Doppelganger,
emerging from you
The enemy within escaping outwards
I Exorcise You From Me
Ours is the only period ever
to have sought to exorcize this phantasy
That is,
to turn it into flesh and blood,
to transform the operation of the doppelganger
from a subtle interplay
into the bland excuse for escape of repression
Do You Collect Aggregate Shame From Your Actions?
We accumulate experiences during life,
and we also accumulate roadblocks,
in the form of aggregate shame
You can think of this as a False Self
with a Counterfeit Spirit
This counterfeit self becomes your doppelganger
A thing capable of doing what you would not dare,
and a way to present yourself
in a dark world of forms
Everything You Aren’t, Is What I Am
For if you were to meet your total-stranger doppelganger,
they would only differ from you proportionately
They would be braver than you
More resilient to the opinions of others
It would be more perfect than you
More comfortable in it’s skin than you
It would be everything you aren’t
It would be like that form from which you have been fleeing
A doppelganger is a husk of ectoplasm with pretensions
What Are You Going To Do Sweetheart?
What are you going to do?
Pretend like she doesn’t exist?
But she does exist
Not in that creepy house down the street
She lives in you.
Over there,
in the slums of Paradise
And in moments of devil may care freedom
that you give yourself free of shame,
that is her surfacing to have a look around
To have some fun with conventions
and respectability
The Tortured Tension Of Your Failure
Your doppelganger makes it seem as if it was a dream
But it wasn’t
With hindsight, it seems all too real
Until the next time,
and the time after that
With a tortured tension,
you become water,
restlessly, violently,
seeking to reach the ocean
Water that does not reflect
Water that is afraid to reflect
A liquid nihilism,
that is born in a mountain,
and lost in the stream
She Is You, And So Am I
And if you indulge your doppelganger’s nihilism,
she won’t have to force her way into your life
She will become you
And then you won’t even remember who you were
Hoping the uniform you now wear
becomes an imperfect methodology
to provide true anonymity
from a multiplicity of bilateral and three-dimensional self-lies
Your Flesh Is Mine, Because I Own It
Flesh cannot reach every recess of the mind
It cannot document every emotional chord,
and it cannot splice the discordant pieces within us
But a doppelganger can
It becomes responsible for the sanitized accounting of the mind’s depictions
A slick tool of modernist identity craft,
making it impossible to separate the teller
from the telling
It prompts problematic pairings
of algorithmic look-alikes
based on the essentialised ethic
of sexual attributes
I’m Right Behind You, But You Can’t See Me
Then one day,
you catch yourself walking 15 paces behind your doppelganger
The impossibility of the situation seemed like an absurd concept
that only existed in ‘what if’ scenarios
quietly played out unseen in your fear dreams
But now your Doppelganger
is walking a divergent path of your life’s choices
And her success is not yours
Just remind me,
what was your dream?
You Are Leftovers
Doppelgangers come for your soul,
and stay for your leftovers
They are unburdened
by the true inertia of human nature
Sometimes,
after a lifetime of negotiation with your doppelganger,
you realise the words you could have said,
or left unsaid
Because doppelgangers sip amnesia,
as they change the destination of your journey,
downward
I Know Where My Doppelganger Lives
I have a doppelganger
And it is very real
When I recite the rote details my life events,
it slithers further into me,
and out of me
Every touch alters its truth
until it makes me recognizable
Like a whisper in a community garden,
making it better to remain silent,
than be seen
I Bite Your Truth
In film number 250,
I will introduce you to my doppelganger
The mythic will become real,
and it will leave bite marks
on the body of truth
Maybe,
if I hadn’t been acting like a reverse Peeping Tom,
trying to look out into the world untouched,
this existential dilemma wouldn’t exist
Me. Yourself. I
In film number 250,
you will see,
myself
herself
Itself
All people deserve respect
But not all actions do
I should be thankful
that there will be only one of us left standing
when it is all over
She Lives In A Hole
Through a cloud of wants and desires unfulfilled,
truth is eventually born
And the answer to what created
the hole she lives in,
is the good graces
of unconditional ambition
that exists at the centre of the Universe
Where everything makes sense,
because nothing is ever incomplete
To be known,
despite, or because of
the loathing and the lies that were told
is a doctrine
about a human who is not worth being
Believing that there is something
worth giving an unconditional fuck for,
is what you choose not to do.
But it’s going to be such a great decade for you.
Isn’t it?
Fuck You. And Fuck The Roof You Slid Down On
The emotional belligerent
is an intransigent itinerant,
who threatens harm
No, no, no
You will not hurt me
as I curl up in a circle
in the corner
From my perch on the porch,
it looks like a round white pupil
staring at its angel wings
An eyeball watching over everything
Scared.
And unblinking
Feeling some kind of wonder
about what is to come.
At a time not of its choosing
As if its presence explains
the revelation itself
The Rewards For The Sweat Of Creative Labor
The Moon is a bag of salt
gathered from the sweat on slaves backs.
In the morning it will be gone.
Used up,
in the process of creating
Another day
Another film
Another award
ᐧWhen you are booted out,
onto the face of earth,
and then immediately disconnected from the reality of your present,
you will be forever driving
towards a place called redemption
Then spending a lifetime trying to get back out
Was it worth it?
You Are Poison
As presence explains,
what they struggle to put into words
What are they feeding on?
Because I feel their hunger
Even poison tastes good when you’re starving
The poison reminds me,
how they stole,
every chance
to not meet compromise
You Missed Out On Your Biggest Payday
A conquest
for power
with purpose
to forget
the consequences of
a hunger that must be met
To live
is to feed
on the living,
then hope they forget
they are dead
All choked up on your dreams,
speaking in whispers,
about how you forgot to feel,
when you beat at the walls
to accumulate bruises
The Stories You Tell Yourself
Justification
is when nothing is under control
Chaos,
is the nature of all things,
with thin fine threads
of what is,
and wasn’t
It is the consequence of need,
to project yourself to be
who you really aren’t
The gap,
and the disparity,
are the stories we tell ourselves
To fix us,
and change our story
Parasites And Leeches
Here I am
Right here
Right now
With a basket full of blessings,
taking my part,
in creation
What’s the difference
between a parasite,
and a leech?
Not much
What’s the difference
between a doppelganger
and a lack of self-awareness of lost opportunity?
Not much
I am a dangerous person when turned loose with words
Charles Bukowski. American poet