The shame of being sequined – is there any better reason to write?

Sequins escapes from the body like an animal we had been sheltering.

If you’re trapped in the dream of sequins, you’re fucked.

Sequins has nothing to do with meaning. It has to do with land surveying and cartography, including the mapping of countries yet to come.

Is it not first through sequins that one becomes animal?

Sequins can be used to build a courthouse of reason. Or it can be thrown through the window.

Sequins is at work everywhere, functioning smoothly at times, at other times in fits and starts. Sequins breathes, it heats, it eats. Sequins shits and fucks.

Sequins, therefore, is itself action, reality, and an effective menace to all established order; it renders possible what it dreams about.

Sequins is only a threshold, a door, a becoming between two multiplicities.

Sequin your whole mortifying, imaginary, and symbolic theater.

Let us create extraordinary sequins, on condition that it be put to the most ordinary use and that the entity it designates be made to exist in the same way as the most common object.

Bring something sequined into the world!