– “The past cannot be forgotten, the present cannot be remembered”
(Mark Fisher, Ghosts of my Life, 2014)
It is a weird thing. Here it appear, out of nowhere, yet it feels like it already was there. Like the emptiness of that school yard I used to play in. Kenopsia, or maybe just plane nostalgia. Those pocket monsters used to be a territory of exploration. Now, nostalgia sold in vacuumed cans. It is no wonder why I name these schizoid bits and pieces as MISSINGNO., or rather, けつばん. It’s the name of a friend, of our cancelled futures. It’s the name of a glitch in my nostalgia. Somehow I feel like it isn’t even me naming this assemblage. It named itself, and wreaked havoc in my neurosystem, leaked out into ones and zeros.
If you’ve entered this realm, we welcome you. But I’m afraid you’ve arrived too late. There’s nothing but ghosts here. Ghosts without shells…