FOR A PLACE YOU HAVE ONLY DREAMT
I WOKE UP WITH THE ROOM STILL IN MY MOUTH.
ITS FLOOR PLAN PRESSED AGAINST MY TONGUE.
WHEN A FEELING GROWS WALLS,
THEY SAY YOU ONLY DREAM PLACES THAT YOU HAVE KNOWN.
DREAM ROOM PROTOCOL
/traumraum
/dream-room
/protocol
Close your eyes
locate the left side
locate the right side
locate the function of entry
locate the function of having been entered
place the tongue
behind the room
allow the mouth
to retain the plan
inhale
do not visualize the place
wait until the place
begins to arrange itself
exhale
notice whether the body
has been placed
before you placed it
Semantic Satiation /----------
Room
Room
Room
Room
Room
Room
Room
Room
I dreamt about getting raped there.
door
( step sound )
split
left: kitchen
right: toilet
left
right
left
right
Left
No corridor
( breath in )
seen
seen
seen
childhood
peripheral intake
stored / not processed
aftertone
aftercare / afterimage
after something
(wet mouth sound)
when I woke up, I wondered if the first version of a place was already a mistake.
like a surface being,
wiped with a cloth that was already used.
spreading rather than removing, a tone,
that suggests the event has already happened and is now being evenly distributed across
----------- YOUR perception.
a misplacement of functions,
as if digestion and disposal had been separated.
the suggestion that the tongue has already traced these surfaces before,
that there is a prior contact I cannot date,
cannot refuse.
I have started to suspect that the places I encounter in sleep are not constructed from what
has been,
but from what requires me.
Your body is a lie in itself.
safety is not meaning.
a safe space is not found.
it is generated through repeated evidence…
the dream is the place
where orientation replaces understanding.
WHAT DOES MY DREAM ROOM MEAN?
WHAT DOES MY DREAM ROOM MEAN?
WHAT DOES MY DREAM ROOM MEAN?
WHAT DOES MY DREAM ROOM MEAN?
WHAT DOES MY DREAM ROOM MEAN?
I spent most of the dream trying to arrive at a place I had already left.
The walls did not separate spaces, only the intensities.
Crossing them changed nothing visible, only the density with which the air continued to remember me.
I keep calling it a room because language insists on containment. Nothing in the dream suggested walls.
The left side continued to behave as left even after I could no longer remember
what had been there.
I wonder whether every feeling begins by arranging distances.
Whether fear first appears as proximity.
Whether grief first appears as extension.
Whether shame first appears as the impossibility of locating an outside.
Sometimes I think the room only exists because the body refuses to abandon a certain arrangement.
Not because it remembers, just continuing.
There are mornings in which I cannot recover a single image from the dream.
The bathroom had no water.
The door had no outside.
Every use had already detached itself from the object.
AS THOUGH THE DREAM HAD NOT REMEMBERED A PLACE BUT HAD RECONSTRUCTED THE APPARATUS BY WHICH A PLACE BECOMES CAPABLE OF BEING KNOWN:
SPATIAL BELIEF: PROXIMITY, DIVISION, FUNCTION.
IF THE DREAM HAS A SITE, IT IS NOT THE ROOM BUT THE FAILURE OF THE ROOM TO REMAIN OUTSIDE THE BODY.
THE MOMENT IN WHICH ARCHITECTURE, INSTEAD OF CONTAINING EXPERIENCE, IS TAKEN IN AS A KIND OF ORAL PROOF.
Rück-Stand.
the mind asks what it means.
the body asks where it is.
I WOKE UP WITH THE ROOM STILL IN MY MOUTH.
they say you only dream places you’ve known.
I WOKE UP WITH THE ROOM STILL IN MY MOUTH,
AS IF I HAD NOT DREAMT A PLACE
BUT SWALLOWED THE CONDITIONS OF ONE.
WHERE THE BODY ENTERS,
WHERE IT IS SPLIT,
WHERE’S INTAKE AND DISPOSAL
A SYSTEM OF DISTANCES AND MISPLACED FUNCTIONS THROUGH WHICH THE BODY LEARNS
COUNTING,
ORIENTATION,
ERROR,
RETURN.
COUNTING,
ORIENTATION,
ERROR,
RETURN.
COUNTING,
ORIENTATION,
ERROR,
RETURN.
THE ROOM IS NOT REPRESENTED.
IT IS GENERATED BY THE SAME PROCEDURE
THAT GENERATES THE TEXTILE FIELD:
REPETITION.
TEXTILE FIELD = NEURAL FIELD
A FEMINIZED LABOUR
OF COUNTING,
ORIENTATION,
ERROR,
RETURN,
A DOMESTIC TECHNIQUE
MAKING AN UNDOMESTIC PLACE
THE CHART DOES NOT ILLUSTRATE THE ROOM / IT BEHAVES LIKE ONE