Exoneratio Dei

"Exoneratio Dei"

Ultrafiction by 60809.

J's a man searching to find the best way to tell his story. Telling and retelling the details of a tragic affair to find his way through it. And justification for why he must suffer the price of it. Past the fairy tale, past the failure. And further still. Following the patterns of his history, beyond contradiction and inclination, to witness his full self in the sun's light.

A thoughtful, and ultimately uplifting, exploration of truth, reality and perception.

A beautiful and poignant transformation of heartbreak and disease into a true spiritual awakening.

"A virus-riddled mess of a man sits in a coffee shop hoping for some brilliant terrible event to take his mind off himself. His selves and all their conflicting nonsense. The look in his eyes will bring him no good. He doesn't doubt this or resist. Some men are able to surf the flow of their lives. Others have no choice but to go limp and tumble with the break.He's writing a novel about himself. It's written in the third person. He intends to lie..." (Exoneratio Dei - 60809)
About the Author: 60809 in watching the rubble of my castle fall, i learned about gravity and had ideas about how to build again upon how things settle. now i go about seeing what's possible, chipping gemstones into perfect prisms to filter images from the white light. i've made mistakes. i've caged winged creatures and set wild creatures free that i found i could not tame. i'm numbered 60809 amongst men and i can tell you on which day the world ended. i see extradimensional faces watching me from treetops while i watch patterns of patterns overlap for the chance to see through the cracks to the other side. i'm convinced that it's all just a trick of the light, exchanged in the flicker of men. i've drawn, to me, all these things. i believe in a world where a man's path, as we spiral through the night, is defined by the best of him and that destruction always befalls a man proportionate to the breadth of his stray from this path. though some things are worth the price of knowing them. besides, it's clear that a demon's been let loose and that it must be suffered as the passage of time. it eats the meat that men are made of. this is the consequence of being. i only know this because my art is describing aspects of fascinating things. i would make each man his own namesayer. when you know a thing's name you can take away its power. this story is the full experience of one man's potential as he stumbles upon his own mythology, looking for some way to make his moment last forever. the same way he stumbled upon his own name while watching himself wither so he could learn to control his rot. i want to precede myself. i've devoted all my power to this. it took the worst of what i could endure to show me that the distance between conception and fruition is simply doing. this lament has become the source of my onward. it's as much of higher guidance as it is of the explanation of a man; all he can and can't help but do, as defined by what he must. what his heart must and the chemicals in his mind. what his cock must and what's implied by the combination of all these things. not to mention, the ten-inch saboteur in his abdomen pulling all the levers and switches. if any of this is going to happen, i'm the one who's going to make it happen. so i defer to this, my craft. this is the last few pages of my sketchbook...