this big sexy regret machine

  upcoming zine

  The body speaks through the mouth. The mouth often screams. The Flesh of The World by Xandra Metcalfe, Uboa , are four tracks, spoken over twenty minutes. ‘Here it is asked, ‘where does a body end’’. The text is fearful and fearing, exploring the marred ground of body dysmorphia, the ‘schizophrenic dissolution’ of self, and the existence of an internal ‘other’. The space around us is sewn into our being, as time becomes irrelevant, space becomes the host for all thoughts. Who rules over this body, the ‘other’ or the god? The body is four tracks on a Bandcamp EP. Terfs are shit. They are still breathing and using the deaths of children as a voice for their own rancid disputes. They are creatures. They seep into our fears. As does the dysphoria itself. To those whom it is known, it is the killer. Metcalfe is exploring this dissociation here. Body is body. Initially, Metcalfe reasons an objective idea of what the body is, sightless and sensory (Exsanguination). The body is whole...