excerpts #5

the whole point of the expression, if i were to give it an expression, is to let another person know your thoughts. but what if you wanted to conceal a thing in the first place? how does anything gets written then? mon cherie remains an idea, because she is steadily growing, bemoaning her fate and anxiety; you are anxious enough to write it down, but find it difficult to get out of bed and stare monotonously at the computer for hours without end. yes, it is difficult precisely because you’d rather lose yourself in short empty chatter fruitless pandering that points toward nothing but short momentary bursts to mollify your heart, that you realize will never be enough. why don’t you, why won’t you, turn your head to what lasts, to what gives you more permanence?
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then again, to speak of anyone, to anyone, these days is rather fruitless.
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you have abandoned all ideas of being purified and dignified, and would rather roll in your sheets and face nothing but the wall than embrace the disparaging noise that creep across the hallway in all their gaiety and laughter.
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reading list;
marx, beauvoir, kafka, swettenham.
(yet you know you’ll never finish any of them)
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the fourth state of matter, jo ann beard.
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don’t send anything if you think i’m not worthy of it. it is as simple as that. don’t complain of the inability to comprehend. sometimes it’s the refusal to acknowledge that leads to a cold response. one is not at loss of words, rather one doesn’t want to give any.
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would rather read than write. one must be patient, and not eager to lash out words upon words to claim the title writer. right now you must lay dormant and read read read.
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someone sent me a picture of some author to the phone. it is now forever marred with a very sial existence.
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it’s blatant but only with those familiar.
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sekian