Pens

These are ink-filled vessels.
There usually will be some in the house, of different provenance.
They are things which contain and which leak. The dye is engineered with sophistication to a particular medium.
They conform to a special behavior we do.
We feel the need come over us, and unthinkingly we find a pen in our fingers and we set it to leaking.
The pens leak a fluid we see.
At small scale, at this large, we see the bends and dips left over from our jerks, we know where the ink has been pushed and trailed, and precisely why, because there are only 26 letters to choose from in this particular regime of script-use.

The symbol set can offer back the crystallized tension between compulsion and invention.
"The specter of myself who has never learned to live," Derrida said.
In the future I'll have done with scribbling. I'll write in cum on a lady, in incendiary fire on a city, and on water over my tombstone. It's all blogging. It's all data. It all reposes.