This was inspired by Nick Land’s, who’s heavily influenced by Deleuze and Guattari, essay “Meltdown.”

Capital extends its tendrils in all directions and fuses with all bodies. It is a vampiric xenoform that simultaneously deterritorializes and reterritorializes(1) the earth. It liquidates the past and dissolves all structures and consumes and consumes until the future gets cancelled. Capital is not the virtual unnamable spectre that haunts for the earth is already “captured by a technocapital singularity.” It is the Eldritch abomination of a human creation that subsumes all human endeavors into its maw all the while nothing human makes it out to the future. We’re not headed to a techno-dystopia, we’re already in the beginnings of it and the only escape is the way through; in other words, there is no escape. It’s a race to the absolute horizon and one that’s quickly closing in. There’s no distinction between the destruction of capitalism and its intensification; auto-destruction is immanent within itself. Capital revolutionizes more than any other system that pays lip service to the revolution.

(1)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deterritorialization

To get myself back into writing more, I assigned myself some writing projects that I want to do in the very near future:

1. An essay on masochism and sadism a lá Deleuze’s Masochism: Coldness and Cruelty.

2. An essay on Clarice Lispector.

3. Write a short story.

Gaea prophesied that Cronus’ children will overthrow him as he did to his father Uranus. Castrated and disgraced, Uranus vowed revenge on his youngest son. “Vengeance for it would come afterwards” (1). Cronus too had many children. With paranoia over the inheritance of his spirit, just barely out of Rhea’s womb, Cronus consumes his children.

Round and round I go, searching for God so below that I must eventually reach up high. I threw myself in the arms of another and another and luxuriated in the excess. Jumping from one bed to another, from each change of hand to another, it seems like the 6th card (2) was watching over me. Down in the belly of the world, God was materialism. Blessed are the black magicians who transform the world.

Blessed is me to be beatified by the fruits of the world, an Eve who takes the apple that’s already rotten. Decay is at the core of the world and I choose to rot in decadence. The artificiality of this reality only shows me the beauty of contrivance – the black magicians have the ability to construct and pervert our perceptions and power lies in selling half-truths and total lies.

Round and round I go, churning away into a downward spiral. I can feel myself physically deteriorate and my mind full of scorpions (3). When I got the diagnosis that I won’t live another 2 years, I knew time was my enemy. It was the same illness that took my mother. I sought God in the world, and I debased myself in excess to reach his divinity. But this is time’s vengeance on me trying to outrun it. In my last days, it doesn’t care whether I rectify myself or not, it’ll catch up with me.

Rhea secretly gave birth to Zeus in Crete and handed Cronus a stone wrapped in swaddling clothes. He thought it was his son, so he ate it. Once Zeus grew up, he used an emetic given by Gaia to force Cronus to disgorge his siblings. Eventually Zeus and his older siblings overthrew Cronus and the other Titans, who were then confined in Tartarus.

(1) Hesiod, Theogony
(2) Devil card in tarot.
(3) Shakespeare, Macbeth

I remember it like it was yesterday. If I’m correct, it was a month ago that I took a week off from work to do this. However, since then, my conception of time hasn’t fully recovered. I haven’t quite felt like myself since that event. I don’t know why I did it. Actually I do, but the reasons for it seem will seem crazy to any sane person.

My husband and I were going through a rough patch in our relationship. He started a new job and despite the hope that it would be his dream career, it ended up being more stressful and demanding than it was initially marketed as. We’ve been together for 5 years, but lately the relationship has been losing steam. Yet, the possibility of divorce wasn’t in the works. But the question was, what was the glue that drew us together? I don’t remember the last time we’ve had sex. We barely talked to each other aside from polite small talk. At best, we merely tolerated each other. I loved him in the nominal sense of the word, but anything deeper than that has been dead and buried. It seemed like we wanted to stay together because that was what we were used to.

In conjunction with my husband’s new job, my depression was spiraling. It became harder to face the world with a confident smile. Each day, I felt the mask get new cracks, and no amount of adhesive can fix it. The numb gnawing pain in my stomach made me want to wretch, but even that took a lot out of me. Each passing day felt the same. Every meal, no matter how exotic, tasted the same. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want to live either; I was in some liminal space between the two.

Liminality…that word…that was the perfect word to encapsulate what I was experiencing. Time stops and you’re suspended in motion. There’s no past or future, but the overbearing tyranny and monotony of the present. It’s a white room with no door and windows; just you and your oppressive thoughts. Whatever sense of self you’ve had in the past is now a blur; you’re just a husk of what you were and the foreclosed potential of what you could’ve been.

That space was simultaneously terrifying and comforting like a fetus long overdue to be birthed. I wanted to explore it more, but rather than it being an abstract and nominal thing, I wanted to be in it. I wanted to be swallowed in it. I wanted to go into its depths. Was this my depression talking? Perhaps, but this will be my baptism by fire – torturing myself to see what emerges on the other side. But instead of fire, it’ll be abysmal. I was obsessed with the idea. I had plans on how I wanted to execute this. I kept ruminating on the idea and for a bit, I kept it to myself knowing my husband wouldn’t approve. He knew how severe my depression was and there was no way he would agree to this. Regardless, I mustered the gumption to approach him.

“This is a stupid idea. Do you know what prolonged sensory deprivation does to a person? How about talking about your issues? Hell, why not try BDSM like some couples do. Did you talk to your therapist about this? Why resort to this?”, Daniel replied.

“Yes I have, but she thinks this is in the realm of fantasy, nothing that I’ll actually do. Honestly, I don’t have good reasons to do this. At least not one that’s sane. But it’s been on my mind and to be frank, it’s becoming an obsession of mine.”

“What did your therapist say when you told her?”

“That this not an uncommon feeling. It’s not uncommon for depressed people to want do delve into morbidity of their depression.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea since it’ll worsen your condition.”

We didn’t speak for a couple of days. The tension and resentment were thick between us. I haven’t felt as ashamed as I did then. I knew this was a bad idea. But despite knowing the danger of this, the obsession grew stronger. This is something I had to do. I was crestfallen at the fact that I had no choice but to sit on obsession and to let it stew. It kept calling me to have me be embraced by its hungry maw. It’s teeth etching themselves onto my flesh. It’s tendrils insidiously consuming my mind. Who was the hungry one, it or I?

Two weeks after that conversation, Daniel surprised me with something.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said. As dangerous as this idea of yours might be, I can’t help but find it intriguing. I didn’t think you would come up with something like this, and I have to say, it’s pretty ballsy. I agree to do it. However, it’ll only be for 3 days max. I’ll tie a string to a bell for you to pull for when you want out.”

“I don’t get it. Why agree to this now?”

Daniel suddenly had a devious smile on his face, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see you tortured a bit.”

I felt myself heat up. We looked each other in the eye and silently stared at each other for a moment. He hungrily looked me up and down like a starving predator. Suddenly, he grabbed my neck and forcefully pinned me against the wall.

“You’re a sick little fuck aren’t you? What goes on in that twisted head of yours that you’re not telling me.”

He savagely kissed me and I bit his lip.

“Bitch!”

I smiled mischievously, “I want you to be as rough with me as you can.” I saw a little bit of blood dribble down his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his hand. I grabbed his hand and licked the blood off.

“You’re a twisted little bitch aren’t you. If you want fucked up, I’ll show you fucked up.”

---

Weeks prior to the event, Daniel and I were very intimate. For the first time in a long time, I felt happiness. I even felt…joy. He was more attentive and sensitive than usual. He made sure I was pampered and comfortable. He offered to cook our meals, but I didn’t want that. For the last time, I wanted to experience the freedom of choosing my own meals. All of this was a prelude to what was to come, and I must enjoy it as much as possible before I go there. As the days were beginning to close in, the anticipation became suffocating. The closer I got to it, the more it dawned on me how horrific this might be. What if I don’t come back from this? I had second thoughts, but it’s too late to back out now. I must commit to it.

The day was fast approaching….and then it arrived.

Daniel blindfolded me and then led me down the basement. The excitement and fear were so palpable that I wanted to vomit. There’s no turning back from this. I have entered the hungry maw of the abyss. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, he took off my blindfold and it was just as dark as when I had it on. He turned me around, presumably to face him.

“This will be your home for the next 3 days. I made sure to remove the lightbulbs. Do you remember where the string is? Tug it when you want out.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Of course, when Daniel is at work, I’ll be stuck here. But that was part of the appeal.

Unceremoniously he walked away leaving me in the dark.

Despite some tools on some shelves, the other only things that accompanied me down here were a bucket to do my business in, a roll of toilet paper, and a water bottle.

What instantly hit me was the suffocating darkness. The air was so thick that I felt like I was choking on it. I didn’t dare move around the basement fearing I might injure myself, so I sat there on the cold, hard floor. The first 2 hours were just silence and darkness. It was a long 2 hours, but it felt almost peaceful despite my initial fear. But peace left just as quickly as it came. Calmness quickly transformed into something phantasmagoric.

In the pure darkness, silence is a presence. You seem to hear sounds that are so minute to the human ear. In a regular setting, no one would notice a needle hitting the ground. But here the sound reverberates, but not enough to be certain that you’ve heard it. The sound of silence resonated throughout. Little noises here and there and the scurrying of a cockroach filled the emptiness. It almost seemed like I wasn’t alone in here. The basement felt alive.

After what seemed like hours since I entered the basement, I saw the door opened and the light was blinding. I watched Daniel cautiously go down the stairs with a plate and cup. He wordlessly placed it at the foot of the stairs, went back up, and locked the door. The dinner was dry chicken and a glass of water. That was it. This was going to be a long 3 days.

---

I could feel the days pass by the feeling of oil accumulating in my hair and on my skin after not showering for days. The only way I could tell when it was morning and evening was when Daniel silently brought me a plate of dry chicken and a glass of water, but even then, the notion of time was meaningless down there. Days and nights were all the same. Here time stood still.

The stench of my refuse permeated the basement but after a while I got so used to it that I didn’t even notice it. I tried spending my time sleeping but closing my eyes didn’t give me respite. Forcing myself to sleep only rattled the basement even more. Each time I tried to quiet my mind, ghostly images became even louder. They spoke to me.

I am you.
The darkness seeps into your skin until you can’t distinguish yourself from me.
I am the you that wanted this.
We’ll never be apart.
For I am you.

I would get ecstatic whenever the basement door opened and Daniel walked down the stairs, not so much for the meals, but for some semblance of human interaction even if it’s minimal. As Daniel descended the stairs, the light from the kitchen illuminated him like an angel. No, he wasn’t an angel. He was God, albeit a cruel and silent God. Whenever I tried to touch him, he would push me away. But even a push was enough to give me a sense of comfort. The light and his presence momentarily broke the morbid monotony. I don’t know much time has passed, but I felt like I truly merged with the basement. I couldn’t see my limbs in the darkness. My thoughts became the noise that echoed throughout.

I am the you that wanted this.

But Daniel wasn’t God. God was the all-encompassing darkness, the darkness that pulsated throughout the basement. Daniel was merely the hand of God, a servant to dole out my punishment.

I know why you did this, you sick fuck. You didn’t feel loved enough by your husband and you were bored with life, so you decided to go inward. But that wasn’t enough. You needed to feel something and feel in the most extreme way possible. How pathetic. What are you trying to prove?

I am the you that wanted this.

---

The hunger pangs were becoming ever sharper. I didn’t have enough energy but I couldn’t sleep either. I wanted nothing else but to cry. I shouted out into the darkness. I was hoping that my wails would take Daniel downstairs, but he never came, not without me ringing the bell. I was close to almost ringing it, but I already went this far. I can’t give up now.

To what end? What are you trying to prove?

I needed this. Fear, dread, hallucinations, hunger were all part of this play. Even in my despair, I couldn’t help but experience a twisted victory in this. Is this what Bataille meant by limit-experience? The impossibility of living that lies at the edges of experience? I needed to go to the fringes to know, to gain knowledge of the other side. After I finished crying, all my energy was drained. I felt my limbs go heavy as if they were tied to boulders. I laid down on the floor and eventually fell asleep.

I saw my mother sitting in a lawn chair. She looked at me tenderly and beckoned me over to have me sit on her lap.

“It’s almost time,” she said.

She gave me paper sunglasses, she had a pair of her own, and we both put them on at the same time. Three, two, one….The moon passed over the sun. The sun became a black circle with a silver ring around it. The backyard slowly got darker and darker. The air started to become more frigid. My mother whispered into my ear, “I am the you that wanted this.”

What?…

I looked up at her and her eyes were all black and she had a wide, grotesque smile. Her mouth stretched from one side of her face to the other.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle tug on my shoulder.

“Honey wake up. It’s okay now. It’s over.”

From the shock of being awoken from a nightmare, I looked up and saw Daniel’s concerned face. His touch felt like an electric shock; I didn’t remember what it was like to be gently touched with such tenderness. I looked at him with disbelief.

“It’s okay honey. It’s over now. You can get out of here.”

After I realized that, yes, the 3 days were up, I embraced him with all the strength I could muster. It felt longer than 3 days. All those hours passed sitting in the darkness alone with my thoughts. The days and night merged into suspended time.

Daniel helped me get up; I could barely stand. I was so happy, the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve never felt so relieved to see another human as I was at that moment. I struggled to walk up the stairs as my limbs still felt heavy. As I ascended with the bright light blinding me like the midday sun, a wave of dread came over me. I froze in place. The whole world collapsed onto me.

We’ll never be apart.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…it’s nothing.”